


Baptized

by thatwasamazing



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing, Cuddling, Dark Will Graham, Depression, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone is okay I promise, Faked Suicide, First Kiss, Grieving, Intimacy, M/M, Murder Husbands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pining, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), maybe hints of suicidal ideation?, overprotective chiyoh, sap, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwasamazing/pseuds/thatwasamazing
Summary: *Post-Fall Hannigram*What if after their plunge into the ocean, Chiyoh saves an unconscious Hannibal...but left unconscious Will in the water to die? (Don't worry, Will lives). This is the story of the aftermath and their inevitable reunion.(inspired by the song Baptized by Daughtry)(ON HIATUS SORRY, I WILL RETURN TO IT WHEN I CAN)
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 112
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IIQueenFannerII](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IIQueenFannerII/gifts).



> Thank you IIQueenFannerII for your kind words, encouragement, and for exposing me to the song that inspired this fic! You are truly an inspiration! ♥
> 
> Baptized by Daughtry [Video](https://youtu.be/fu4h_rx4lyc) [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/daughtry/baptized.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Tbh I think I was also channeling some Johnlock post-fall feels as I wrote this too.)
> 
> Oh and for anyone who has read my other multi-chapter fics - I'm trying out doing shorter chapters for this one.

  
_It's safe to say I'm lost,_  
_Without you in my arms,_

_And the days and nights are cold,_  
_Without your body to hold,_  
_So I close my eyes hoping you'll appear..._

_**Will POV** _

Will can scarcely believe it. They did it, they killed the Red Dragon! And now as he accepts Hannibal’s outstretched hand, he goes easily into his embrace; it feels like coming home. 

Will knows in his bones that this is one of those pivotal moments in life, where the choice you make has lasting repercussions. His vivid imagination clearly sees two possible futures laid out in front of him. It would be easy, easier than breathing, to run away with Hannibal; for them to flee now, off into the night, find somewhere to hide and heal, and then become the alleged murder husbands they were purported to be. He can feel it, how effortless it would be to embrace the darkness within him...right now he wants that, wants it with every fiber of his being.

What they just did together truly _was_ beautiful, even more beautiful than Will ever dreamed such an act of violence could be. Even when he was at his deepest points inside of serial killers minds, nothing has ever felt so unequivocally _right._ Never once has he experienced such a simultaneously peaceful and invigorating euphoria. And that fact scares him. Terrifies him. How could he have reached thirty four years of age and not known this about himself?!? 

He knew from a young age that he had an ever present darkness pulling at him from deep within himself, always tempting him from the edge of his consciousness, but he was always too afraid of losing himself in it to ever look at it full on. And now that he has, he is overwhelmed by the rightness of it. He _knows_ without a shadow of a doubt that he can never go back to being the same man he was before. 

The easy thing to do right now is to give in, to accept this new reality and let the chips fall where they may - for it to be him and Hannibal against the world, as equals, two dangerous and powerful predators shaping the world, dispensing justice, vengeance, hell _whatever_ they feel like dispensing - because who could stop them? No one. Together they are an unstoppable force.

Now he feels like he is no longer bound by a moral code, like he was baptized in the blood of the Red Dragon, blood that really does look black in the moonlight. And instead of being absolved of sin he was anointed in it, shedding his righteous morality in the process. He is left feeling free and unburdened, freer than he has ever felt in his whole life, like he is really himself for the first time. It’s incredibly liberating. 

Despite this euphoric feeling, in another part of his mind, the part that has always tried to suppress that darkness, he sees a different possible future. One where right here, right now, he could end it all. He could end all the killing, save the lives that he and Hannibal have not yet taken, but surely will if the remain alive in this world. 

The logical part of his mind tells him that this is unquestionably the right thing to do, despite it feeling wrong all over. The contradiction is overwhelming - fear of losing himself to the darkness battling with fear of ending his life just as he has begun to feel alive making it hard to think. In his confusion he begins to panic, triggering the fight or flight reflex within him. His body instinctively chooses flight, no longer having the strength to fight as the adrenaline fades, leaving weakness in its wake. He decides to flee from the decision, to leave their fate up to a god he doesn't believe in. If they survive, then it is with the blessing of the universe. And if they die, then they die together. 

With those thoughts in mind, he holds onto Hannibal tighter, arm wrapped around his warm neck, clutching his shirt desperately between his fingers, and tips them over the edge of the cliff. Hannibal doesn’t fight him - whether he’s too weak to or somehow understands Will’s choice is unclear. Regardless, he barely has time to register Hannibal holding onto him tighter, tucking his face into his neck just before they hit the water. And then everything goes black.

*

Will wakes up disoriented. At first all he can do is blink, shying away from the blinding light until his eyes adjust. When they do he tries to get the mass of blurry colors and shapes to come into focus. _White, lots of white_ . As he does he starts to hear sounds, it’s something rhythmic but his mind can’t make sense of it yet. _Heartbeat? Metronome?_ The epiphany of where he is comes when he smells a scent he _is_ able to identify - rubbing alcohol. _Ah, hospital._

Finally aware of _where_ he likely is, and never happy to be found in such a place, Will tries to sit up. As he does the stiff bed linens scratch against his skin, but not for long as severe pain halts any further movement and he slides back down onto the bed. _Oh fuck_ what happened to him?

A moment later the memories come flooding back in an overwhelming flurry of images, projected in his mind’s eye like a slideshow. Hannibal’s escape. Drinking wine. Hannibal shot. The Red Dragon. Their brutal pack hunting. It really was beautiful. And then their fall, into the roiling Atlantic below. Clutching at the man who consumed him in every way but literally. And then…? Nothing. 

Just reliving the memories is exhausting, and in response the beeping of his heart rate increases in speed, betraying his growing panic. _What happened? Where is Hannibal? This doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right…_

The beeping accelerates exponentially, sounding nearly monotone as the duration between each beep shortens, and then Will starts to panic in earnest. _It’s too fast, there’s no room to breathe!_ He feels like he can’t breathe - it’s like he’s drowning again - did he drown before? _Is this real?_ At that moment a nurse enters his room, speaking to him but Will can’t make sense of what she is saying, almost like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons he saw as a child. She pushes him back down to the bed ( _when did he sit up?_ ) and instinct has Will trying to fight her, but the next thing he knows she has done something to the equipment next to him and he blacks out.

*

The next time Will wakes he feels a little more coherent, immediately understanding the basics. He’s alive and alone in a hospital room. He turns his head to the side and immediately regrets it, pain shooting like electricity through his entire body. In response his eyes scrunch shut and a groan escapes his throat. The groan makes his throat hurt even worse, dry and scratchy like he’s breathing sandpaper rather than air so he immediately tries to suppress any further sound. He must make more noise than he thinks though because the next thing he knows a different nurse is at his side. His name badge reads Blake, RN.

Over the next half hour Will is given water to sip on, medication to take for the pain, and is poked, prodded, and questioned by the nurse. Apparently he passes whatever criteria Blake was assessing him for, because shortly after none other than Jack Crawford enters the room. It’s odd seeing him, Will finds he feels detached, almost like he’s watching himself in a movie, nothing seems real. That feeling changes the second Jack asks about Hannibal. Will is wrenched from the clouds back to Earth, now suddenly every syllable of every word Jack speaks is more precious than air to a drowning man.

“You didn’t find him?” Will asks, fear clenching his heart.

“No, we found you unconscious, washed up on a beach half a mile from the cliff you two fell from. But no sign of Hannibal. No body, no tracks. Nothing.”

“Just me…” Will says more to himself, mind spinning. _This isn’t how it was supposed to go…_

“Will...Will!” Jack says loudly. Will suspects it wasn’t the first time he tried to get his attention and looks at him to prove he is, indeed, listening. “This is important Will. You were the last person to see Hannibal Lecter alive. Do you think he could have escaped?”

Will shuts his eyes against the memory, resisting the pull for his mind to do what it is exceptionally good at - extrapolating from the evidence. In this case his memory _is_ the evidence and he really doesn’t want to interpret that evidence now. But just like when you try not to think of something, you paradoxically think of it, of its own accord thoughts start swirling, the pendulum swinging behind his eyes. _What was the most likely outcome?_

The water was freezing, they were both weakened from their fight with the Red Dragon, and Hannibal had a gunshot wound to the abdomen which was bleeding profusely. Those are the facts. The facts say it would have been impossible for Hannibal to survive without outside intervention. And who would have known where they were? _No-one_ his brain automatically supplies. A sob wells up in Will at the act of finally giving thought to what he has avoided thinking of since he woke up. He can barely stand to think the words, but the evidence says that...that Hannibal is dead.

“No…” Will manages to choke out between his hyperventilating breaths. 

“You’re not lying to me are you Will?” Jack asks sternly, obviously skeptical of Will’s reaction.

“No!” Will says angrily, turning hard eyes on Jack. In his emotional fluidity it’s incredibly easy right now to transform his sorrow into rage. Behind his eyes he imagines himself killing Jack, squeezing the life from his neck with his bare hands, drowning him until the water becomes scarlet with his blood. 

Whatever he looks like, Jack visibly flinches, which says a lot. “Alright. Get some rest Will. It’s finally over,” Jack says, already rising from the hospital chair, looking happier than is in his best interest in Will’s opinion, visions of Jack’s corpse dancing behind his eyes. 

*

A week later Will is released home, and while his physical pain is nearly gone, the emotional pain within him has only grown with each day that passes. Not only Tattlecrime, but also the real newspapers report that ' _Notorious murderer and cannibal, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is missing and presumed dead after an altercation with an FBI agent and the Red Dragon, formerly known as the Tooth Fairy_ '. That’s the official story and Will feels sick every time he encounters it. The way the write it makes it sound like it’s a good thing that Hannibal is dead, and that Will is somehow a hero for surviving him. The _last_ thing he feels like is a hero. To be honest he tries not to feel anything.

The first time Will reads the news he vomits. His dogs mill around his feet in the kitchen, worried about their owner. Once there is nothing else left in his stomach to come up, he stands at the sink feeling overcome with the need to escape. All of a sudden nothing matters more than the overwhelming need to get out of this world that is so upside down, everything here is just fucking wrong. He grabs his keys and jacket and rushes out the door without a backwards glance. He gets into his car and drives in no particular direction, just needing to get away. He’s not sure how much time passes, but he is not particularly surprised when he sees the coastline come into view. Without much effort, he ends up driving down the exact same road he rode with Hannibal, only just a month ago. 

The road to Hannibal’s safe house is closed off (of course), so Will U-turns and ends up pulling off the road at the first place where he can see the beach. He doesn’t remember being found but he was told it was somewhere near here. Hell it could be this very spot for all he knows!

Will gets out of his car and walks aimlessly on the beach - it’s cold and windy but he can’t feel it, if anything he feels numb. It’s strange but he finds he can breathe easier here, no longer overwhelmed, the pain dulled for as long as he's here. This place is as close as he can get to where he was last with Hannibal. That fact gives him a small measure of comfort that allows him to think about the man without fully breaking down. 

Despite the chill and the setting sun, Will sits on the sand until he can almost forget, the numbness and tiredness lulling him into an absence of feeling that he can get comfortably lost in. Eventually the sky darkening reminds him of his dogs, so he makes the short trek back to his car and drives home.

Every day after that evening he spends at that beach, sitting on the sand, staring out at the Atlantic ocean. It’s the only place he feels alive, the only place he feels anything other than loneliness and pain. 

As Will stares at the dark ominous waves, he thinks that they were supposed to die together, out there. Will wasn’t naive enough to believe that they would survive, but he assumed that if somehow they did survive, that they would survive together. He doesn’t understand how this could happen. Ever since he woke up he’s felt in limbo, purgatory, like nothing has meaning, like he’s waiting for something - but what? Well, that is one question he can answer. It’s obvious he’s waiting for Hannibal, but what good is waiting for a dead man, a ghost? He can't even dare to hope that Hannibal somehow survived, despite the lack of body. 

Ever since Will woke up he has felt like a changed man, as if the Red Dragon ultimately got what he wanted. At the time he thought he was baptized in the blood of the Red Dragon, but it feels more accurate to say he was baptized in the bloody ocean that night, absolved of the life he led before, emerging from the ocean no longer having to pretend to be something he isn’t.

And yet what is he doing now? Pretending. Will could pretend before the fall. Pretend that the darkness within him didn't constantly tempt him. Pretend that he cared only about saving lives and that murder was the ugliest thing in the world. Pretend that he never truly considered running away with Hannibal. Pretend that the idea of being murder husbands was not as appealing as it actually was. He had tamped down all of those feelings so hard before, kept them hidden from the world, but now its like Pandora's box has been opened and he can’t put those feelings back in. To be honest he never thought he would have to - he figured he would either be dead or be with Hannibal. He never considered waking up alone a possibility. 

As much as he is loathe to admit it to himself, that fact alone is another reason Will can believe Hannibal is actually dead - because surely if he were alive he would come looking for him, right? The more Will thinks about it, he’s honestly not sure. After all, he did pull them off of a cliff - maybe Hannibal thought this was what he wanted? For Hannibal to die and him to survive? That thought alone has Will gasping and doubling over on the sand, nearly in physical pain. _No,_ he has to believe Hannibal understood him. He has always understood him, in a way no one else has _ever_ understood him. 

He really was alone in that darkness before he found Hannibal, and now he's alone again, unsure of his future. Jack, Alana, and Beverly have all talked to him about moving on, about taking time off before returning to field work or teaching (or both), but everything sounds fake and hollow, like fairy tales told for reassurance - only Will’s not sure who they’re supposed to be reassuring. Surely not himself because he can’t imagine he has any future anymore. It’s as if time has stopped, as if it stopped the second he made the decision to pull Hannibal with him over that cliff. And now he’s honestly not sure if time will ever restart for him. But in the meantime, he continues to take what little comfort he can from this place. Hannibal’s dead body is likely out there somewhere, maybe it’s at the bottom of the Atlantic. And sitting here Will can almost believe he’s in his company in some twisted way, waiting for the ocean to claim him too. Maybe then time would start again for him...or maybe it would finally end this perpetual nightmare once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI...Hannibal is not dead. 😉 More to come soon... 
> 
> ♥ As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^ ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiyoh to the rescue...kind of.*
> 
> *See Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *To any Chiyoh fans...I'm sorry... *hides* (To be honest it was really interesting trying to write from her perspective...I've never really thought much about her...ever. 😅)

_**Chiyoh POV** _

After her prisoner _died_ , for a period of time Chiyoh was left bereft of purpose; she refuses to say her prisoner was _killed_ or _murdered_. _Damn that manipulative Will Graham, meddling in things that aren’t his business!_ At the time his manipulations made her both sad and angry. Sad because they really did remind her of Hannibal, whom she missed dearly; despite their complicated past, she will forever love him and remain loyal to him. And angry because unlike Hannibal, she has no love or loyalty for Will. He selfishly wormed his way into her life, into Hannibal's past, and manipulated the situation for his own benefit. Or amusement, she's not sure. Either way, in the end he got what he wanted. She wasn’t kidding when she said Hannibal would be proud of him. He would. But that doesn’t make her any less angry. Deep down in her subconscious she knows it’s really herself that she’s most upset with, not seeing the danger Will Graham posed until it was too late. But she can’t look at that right now, there are more pressing matters occupying her mind - such as having your life’s purpose stolen from you, not to mention taking a life with your own hands. Both of those things take time to process, especially after decades of calming routine. And in the meantime she finds it’s much easier to be angry than hurt, so she is _very angry_ at Will Graham.

After pushing Will of the train - _God that felt good!_ \- she continued on to the only place left that still gave her life meaning and purpose - near Hannibal. And surprise, surprise, within days of trailing him, fucking Will Graham shows up and tries to stab Hannibal with a knife! She doesn't hesitate in pulling the trigger on her sniper rifle, watching with some measure of satisfaction as Will twists with the impact and falls to the ground. Threat neutralized, she leaves it to Hannibal to decide how to proceed. From there things accelerate and she curses herself as she is too late to stop Hannibal from being abducted. However, the situation is salvaged somewhat when she finds Jack Crawford, from whom she gets the location Hannibal was likely taken to. In the end she is mostly unsurprised when her assistance isn't necessary to break Hannibal out of Muskrat Farm. What does surprise her though, is seeing Hannibal carrying Will bridal style in the snow. Trusting that Hannibal has his reasons, she protects him as she always has, easily picking off the lone henchman pursing them. She then falls back into the shadows, waiting to see what happens next. In retrospect she admits she could have never predicted it in a million years.

That very same night Hannibal turns himself in to the FBI, appearing to do so of his own volition, and she is at a loss. She knows from experience that Hannibal _never_ does anything he doesn't want to do. _Why would he want this?_ Feeling helpless and confused, she watches from a distance as he is handcuffed and taken away in a police vehicle. Later, she finds out he is incarcerated inside the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, serving multiple life sentences for his crimes. At first she wonders why on earth he would want to be trapped inside such a place, wonders if he made a mistake and she should attempt to break him out? Or just wait and let events unfold? She mentally concedes that either way there is no pressure to act rashly, so for the time being she decides to wait. Like before, she easily settles into the routine of having a new “prisoner” to watch over (albeit from a distance) while simultaneously re-familiarizing herself with Hannibal’s assets, should she need to take action. The familiarity of the situation is strangely comforting which makes her even more hesitant to change any of Hannibal’s circumstances. After all, little to no harm can come to him in there, so she is confident she can watch and wait.

In the end the wait is a little over three years before anything of note happens. One unprecedented day, she is surprised when Hannibal escorted out under armed guard; the fact that it's happening at all makes her confident she made the right choice to wait. Hannibal is likely manipulating the events around him as he always has done. She vows she will not interfere unless there is a threat to his safety, forever his protector. As the motorcade begins she follows at a distance, excelling in remaining unseen. When a police sedan zooms past her on the wrong side of the road, she slows, watching the scene unfold before her.

It’s truly chaos, the sounds of gunfire, squealing tires, and crunching metal make it hard to decipher what is actually happening. She pulls off the road and grabs her rifle, watching and waiting, although for what she is not sure. And yet in the blink of an eye all the police personnel are dead, the shooter is driving past her back the way he came, and Hannibal is walking free, a smile on his unmasked face. She smiles in relief at the sight, thinking _oh yes Hannibal is in control of the situation_.

Her smile dies a moment later when she sees none other than Will Graham emerge from the armored car, squinty-eyed and grouchy looking as always. _This man is like a pest, a leech, a poor man’s imitation of Hannibal._ And yet she watches intently, for the first time ever seeing the two men interact with one another. _Could they truly be nakama_ _as Will claimed_? She has to admit it’s hard to tell - they are very different and yet there is also a sameness about them. _Identically different._ However the emotions they evoke in her couldn't be more different. When Hannibal shed his mask and straight-jacket, she felt incredibly prideful; she always felt some beasts shouldn’t be caged, and Hannibal is one of those beasts. In contrast Will makes her think of a feral wild animal that should immediately be put down for the safety and well-being of all around him.

Chiyoh's breath catches in her throat when she hears Hannibal speak to Will with such playful fondness in his voice. She can't recall hearing Hannibal speak that way ever as an adult, his tone of voice a shadow from the distant past. If Will responds she can’t hear from her current position, and a few moments later they can be seen fleeing the scene in a stolen police car. Driven by her desire to protect Hannibal, she waits a few moments before following. Wherever Hannibal goes, she goes. 

After about a half an hour of tailing them she realizes she knows where they are headed. They have been driving due east, getting closer and closer to the sea, and if memory serves Hannibal has a property up here - that must be their plan. As various scenarios of how events could unfold play out in her mind, one thing becomes crystal clear: Hannibal will need an escape plan, and she certainly doesn't trust Will to provide that. Confident she no longer needs to follow them for the time being, she pulls off the road to think and is pleased when a short time later an idea emerges. Plan in mind, she makes a U-turn on the deserted road and follows the signs leading down toward the ocean, taking the first exit with a marina. Once there, it is ridiculously easy for her to liberate a boat and some supplies. Escaping by boat has the benefit of being more difficult for the police to track, and she absently wonders if maybe Hannibal considered this when he bought the property? Regardless, she sails it up the coast until her GPS has her in the vicinity of Hannibal’s safe house. Once she’s anchored, she peers through her binoculars and can _barely_ make out two figures inside the house through the large panorama windows. _Oh god are they drinking wine together?_ Chiyoh can’t help the involuntary eye roll and expression of disgust that crosses her face - she loves Hannibal dearly but if this is headed where she thinks it’s headed she _does not_ want to watch that. 

A moment later the vision in front of her spurs a thought that has her blood run cold. What if it’s not Hannibal that’s controlling the situation, but Will? What if Hannibal has finally met his match, someone who will outwit him and ultimately kill him? This man was a profiler for the FBI _and_ did a stint in the BSHCI himself! All of a sudden she is worried for Hannibal’s safety, worried that Will has bewitched him, has somehow thawed Hannibal’s cold heart...but to what end? Now that he's in Hannibal's good graces, she wonders what will he do with him? Surely nothing good, the man leaves destruction in his wake wherever he goes. He might as well be the Judas to Hannibal's Jesus, friend turned betrayer. And if his past actions are anything to go by, she knows there is likely only one outcome; after all, the one thing Will Graham has proven that he understands is violence. She is just about to sail the boat back to the marina to make her way up to the safe house when commotion on the cliff draws her eye.

Even from this distance she can see something is not right. The sound of a gunshot echoes in the foggy ocean air and the figures in the frame of the window scatter. If she thought she was worried about Hannibal before, boy was she wrong. Now she is intensely worried - like life or death worried. Reflexively she grabs her sniper rifle and stares through the sight, trying to orient herself. Time ticks by both agonizingly slowly and too fast to keep up with as she tries to parse out what is happening. She can tell there is a third man there with Hannibal and Will, and that they are fighting - but who is fighting who? What if Will called this man here? What if together they are trying to kill Hannibal? She tries to aim for the third man but they're all so close and keep moving, preventing her from making a clear shot. And from this distance she doesn’t want to risk hitting Hannibal. She almost takes the shot when, as if in synchronicity, Will attacks the third man from the front as Hannibal attacks from the back, and the man collapses out of view. Her finger relaxes on the trigger, seeing no further movement.

For a moment she can only see one hunched figure, who she _thinks_ is Hannibal but _damn this fog_ , she isn’t sure. It becomes clear a moment later as Will appears at his side, both of them standing at the edge of the cliff in an embrace. Seeing the tender, reverent way Hannibal clings to him, even from this distance, makes her want to believe in the best of Will, but she can’t shake her suspicion that everything about him is bad news for Hannibal. There is no denying that Will Graham is destructive. Seconds later her suspicions are confirmed when Will clearly tips them both over the side of the cliff, and in the blink of an eye they disappear into the roiling Atlantic.

Chiyoh nearly drops her gun in her shock, seething with anger. She knew Will Graham was bad news and this is the proof! Whether or not Will survived, he threw Hannibal off of a cliff! That is unforgivable! She snaps into action, trying to stay calm under pressure as she sails the boat closer to the cliffs, desperately looking for Hannibal in the dark choppy waters, hoping against hope that somehow he survived. He’s a fighter, always has been, and she’s not ready to lose her second protected prisoner to the likes of fucking Will Graham and the destruction he brings with him everywhere he goes. 

As the boat nears the cliff she scans the sea, looking for any sign of them. It feels like an eternity, knowing every moment that passes Hannibal could be further from being revived, but eventually she spots a flash of red off in the distance - the color of blood, unnatural for the sea. She expertly sails towards it and her breath is temporarily stolen at the sight she discovers - both men's bodies floating lifelessly, yet it is clear that Hannibal is the more gravely injured of the two, his clothes are the ones tinged with blood. She does her best to shake off the shock, drops anchor and climbs down, trying desperately to lift Hannibal’s heavy body out of the water, not caring how wet and cold she becomes in the process. Her first attempt fails and it only takes her a second to realize why. _Fucking Will Graham._ He’s wrapped around Hannibal like an octopus, fingers clenched in a death grip in the fabric of Hannibal’s tattered shirt. _God he’s so annoying, even in unconsciousness he’s a nuisance. It’s not enough you pushed him off a cliff to his death, you have to hang on to him to make sure he drowns?!?_

Irritated and worried for the blue tinge on Hannibal’s lips, she holds onto the older man and kicks at the persistent FBI profiler, trying to dislodge him. It takes nearly all her strength to separate them but _finally_ Will's cold fingers release, and with effort she is able to pull Hannibal’s body up onto the boat. Once she determines that yes he has a pulse - albeit a weak one - and is breathing - _thank god -_ she glances back at the lifeless body still in the water. It only takes a her a second before she turns back to attend to Hannibal, feeling justified in leaving Will in the sea. He tried to kill Hannibal! He’s lucky she doesn’t shoot him through his lying manipulating heart right now! This is what he deserves. There are other ways of communicating besides violence, but violence is what he understands. 

She focuses her attention on Hannibal and drags his body below deck. As she sets to work with the emergency kit, she quickly realizes that things are more grave than she initially thought. _Hannibal has been shot! And he’s lost a lot of blood..._ Her anger swells again at Will Graham. How could this have happened? Throwing Hannibal into the ocean after he's been shot! That can only mean one thing - he really was trying to kill Hannibal! What kind of monster is he? _The kind that needs to be put down_ , her mind supplies. But she decides not to dwell on it now, instead focusing on tending to Hannibal's wounds with her limited supplies and medical knowledge. Once he appears stable - wounds stitched and bandaged, and color restored to his skin - she sets a course for Cuba and doesn’t look back. As the boat gets further and further from the cliffs, making it's way towards the horizon, she supposes Will Graham wasn’t Hannibal’s _nakama_ after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...happier stuff is coming I promise...eventually. 😉 (And apologies if I goofed on any canon details, I did my best 🤷🏻)
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! I truly appreciate it!! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/189605486479/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1204665638876106752?s=20)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal wakes up

_It's safe to say I'm lost_   
_Without you in my arms,_   
_So I call your name and I pray you might,_   
_Come and watch over me like the pale moonlight,_   
_Until the sun comes back around..._

_And the days and nights are cold,_   
_Without your body to hold,_   
_So I close my eyes hoping you'll appear..._

**_Hannibal POV_ **

When Hannibal wakes, he wakes gradually, by degrees, slowly becoming aware that he’s not dreaming. Was he dreaming? He feels disoriented...incomplete...but his foggy mind can’t figure out what is missing. Instinctively he tries to move to get oriented but is halted by severe pain, causing him to still halfway to sitting. 

The pain brings with it a rush of memories - the gunshot, the fight with the Red Dragon, the fall… that’s right Will pulled them over the cliff. He recalls with clarity the surprise he felt the moment Will tipped them over the Atlantic, but that a moment later he felt nothing but joy. After all, everyone has to die someday, and he honestly couldn’t think of a better way to die than to die with Will in his arms. _It was beautiful._

And what made it even more special was that it wasn’t Will the anxious grumpy FBI profiler in his arms...no this was his Will. Will, who was finally free of his moral dignity pants, free of the shackles of society that held him back. Will, who admitted their brutal pack hunting and killing was beautiful, who was covered in the blood of their enemy. Will, who clung desperately to him, who finally embraced the darkness within him. And with that final act, Hannibal had felt it in his core that he had found his equal, his other half. He had felt complete in a way he had never felt before in his entire life- it was rapturous bliss. And what better way to die than than that?

That day it was like Will was baptized in the blood of the Red Dragon, reborn as the killer Hannibal always knew he was. And then it made perfect sense that they would be baptized in the ocean together, washing away their old lives so they could emerge as their new selves, their purest selves, no longer having to hide, ready to start the next chapter of their lives together.

But where is Will? Hannibal’s eyes finally focus on his immediate surroundings and the first thing he notices is motion - is he on a boat? _A boat.._.hope rises in his chest. Maybe Will saved him? However just as soon as he has the thought, he is disappointed to realize that he doesn't smell Will's unique scent at all. A smell he _does_ instantly recognize is Chiyoh, her subtle but clean scent is all around him. And as if summoned by his thoughts, said woman appears in the nearby doorway. As soon as she sees him she drops the blanket she's carrying and rushes over to him.

“Hannibal! You’re awake! Lay down...”

“Will? Where’s Will?” Hannibal asks urgently.

“Lie back, please,” Chiyoh insists, looking like she’s getting ready to physically push him back. Reluctantly Hannibal complies, if only to gain her favor so she will answer his question, worry already sinking into his gut. _What if Will is dead?_ No! He can't think that way…

Once he’s settled back against the pillows, Chiyoh fusses at him, checking his pupils, his stitches, his temperature…

“Chiyoh,” Hannibal tries again, “Where is Will?” 

He must put some power into his voice because Chiyoh’s eyes widen in fear before she answers, “I-I don’t know.”

Hearing that response, Hannibal quickly sits back up, grimacing at the pain. The rapid motion causes Chiyoh to back away in surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know? What happened?” The volume of Hannibal’s voice rises as he speaks - he's getting more worried by the second, icy dread taking up residence in the pit of his stomach.

“He tried to kill you! He threw you off a cliff into the ocean after you were shot!” Chiyoh says, the volume of her own voice increasing under the strain of the words, almost as if they are painful for her to say. She hesitates a moment before adding in a softer but serious tone, “He’s not good for you Hannibal.”

Hannibal takes a deep breath, and despite the pain it brings he breathes out slowly, trying not to lose his temper, knowing if he does it will only delay him getting to the vital information that he both needs to know and is afraid to hear.

“That is not for you to decide...what happened next?”

Chiyoh stares at him a moment before tentatively answering, “I found you...saved you. I pulled you into the boat, cleaned your wound, stitched you up, and set a course for Cuba. We’re nearly there, we’re off the coast of Florida now-”

“You didn't save Will?” Hannibal interjects, waiting with bated breath on the answer, fearing he already knows it, yet hoping somehow he is wrong.

Chiyoh opens her mouth but then seems to think better of it, waiting a moment before she finally replies, tone justified, “No I didn't.” Hannibal feels his his shoulder muscles clenching as he gets more upset. He knows the change in posture, even while sitting, instinctively makes him a more intimidating presence. In response he sees Chiyoh bristle, her own posture defensive, clearly standing her ground. However before he can reply, Chiyoh exclaims, “He tried to kill you Hannibal! Again!”

“No! He didn't!” Hannibal yells. It hurts his throat but he barely notices it through the blind rage clouding his thoughts. “He tried to kill both of us...to allow us to be reborn again...to be baptized and cleansed from our previous lives…” Hannibal is shaking, his voice straining under the emotion as it slowly permeates his heart that Will might really be dead. A tickle has him wiping at his face, seeing his hand come back wet. _Tears?_ He can’t even remember the last time he cried real tears. 

“You’re in shock! You’re not thinking clearly!” Chiyoh yells back at him, panicked. Hannibal can't recall ever seeing the stoic woman this rattled but he doesn't have the capacity to care right now. Not when Will could be-

“The hell I am!” Hannibal roars, his voice breaking on the last word, willing himself to refuse to believe what he fears most. After a moment he continues, softer but no less intense, saying, “We must go back and find him!”

“Back?” Chiyoh says, uncomprehending. Then, “Where?”

“Virginia” Hannibal says, a plan already forming in his mind, incredibly grateful in this moment for his ability to follow multiple trains of thought at once.

“Hannibal he's probably dead!” Chiyoh says, clearly still upset and not believing what she is hearing, arms outspread in desperation. “And what if they catch you? Hm?”

Hannibal takes a moment to think before responding, saying firmly, in a tone that brooks no arguement, “What does it matter?” Chiyoh’s face blanches with shock but he continues, undeterred, “I’m going Chiyoh, with or without you.” Hannibal stares at her, waiting for her response, although by the way her shoulders slump in resignation he suspects he knows her answer.

Chiyoh sighs, still looking at him skeptically before she says, “Alright fine. But we need to dock to get supplies. While we're there I’ll try to find out if he's alive.”

Hannibal nods in acknowledgement, forced to cede control of the specifics of the ship to Chiyoh, especially in his injured state. Reflexively he touches the most painful area on his abdomen, feeling a thick bandage, recalling the gunshot wound.

The fight seems to leave Chiyoh, her eyes softening as she takes a step forward. “Now please lay back Hannibal. I’ll take care of things. Get some rest.”

Hannibal reluctantly allows himself to be guided back down onto the narrow bed ensconced in the wall. When Chiyoh leaves, all of a sudden he is left alone with his emotions, processing his thoughts. Despite the fact that he normally excels in controlling his emotions, he struggles to not let his fear run away with him. No matter what he does he can’t help but feel antsy, itching to do something rather than lie here like the invalid he is at the moment.

As someone who is used to being self-sufficient, it unsettles him greatly to have to do nothing and wait upon Chiyoh’s actions. After all, what if Will is still in the ocean - clinging to life in near freezing water? Or slowly becoming dehydrated, stranded somewhere? He needs to find him _now!_ Every second could mean the difference between Will's life or death. 

A chill travels through his body, sympathetic to Will's imagined plight in his mind. He feels cold, not necessarily physically, but hopelessly cold inside, like he’ll never be warm again until he has proof that Will is okay, until he can feel him in his arms again. He feels lost, adrift much like this boat, yet without direction. Will is his direction. And right now he could be anywhere. Or nowhere.

He turns over, needing to relieve the pressure on his wound and looks out the small window. Outside the sky is dark, stars clearly visible without the light pollution from the city diluting them. Through the cloudy plexiglass window Hannibal sees the moon rising on the horizon, reflected in the rippling ocean water. As he looks, he wants to believe that Will can see the same moon, wherever he is...and that when the sun rises they will find each other once more, that their souls are destined to meet again, that this just _can’t_ be the end. Surely fate can't be that cruel.

As he slowly slips into a restless sleep, the fear that this really could be the end, that Will might already be dead as Chiyoh said, finally permeates his mind. In response Hannibal can’t stop Will’s name from spilling from his lips, desperately calling out for him even though his sleep-addled brain knows he's not here, “Will…” In his heart he hopes that when he wakes, he will be able to see Will once more.

Thankfully the next time Hannibal is conscious, as promised Chiyoh has not only already docked and obtained supplies, but has news of Will - he’s alive. The relief that floods Hannibal is both welcome and draining. He’s thankful he’s still lying down because he’s sure his legs would have given out if he were standing. _Will is alive!_ He feels like a weight has been lifted off of him, like he can finally breathe again - in a way he’s felt as if he has been holding his breath ever since he woke up, waiting for this moment. All of a sudden it's like he's seeing the world in a new light, the sun shining brighter, the azure sky of the tropics more vivid than before, just for knowing that Will is alive.

The relief he feels is so strong that it takes him a moment to process what else Chiyoh is telling him. She ends up having to repeat herself twice, speaking slowly as if speaking to a child as she tells him the rest of the good news. _The world thinks he's dead…_ As Hannibal processes the implications of that bit of information, a slow smile spreads across his face. Will is alive. The world believes he is dead...things really are looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥♥♥ Huge thanks to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! *hugs* ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/189973105574/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1211924319640535040?s=20)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal does a lot of waiting, searching, and pining... but his search finally yields results 😉

  
_It's safe to say I'm lost,_   
_Without you in my arms,_   
_So I call your name and I pray you might,_   
_Come and watch over me like the pale moonlight,_   
_Until the sun comes back around._

_And the days and nights are cold,_   
_Without your body to hold,_   
_So I close my eyes hoping you'll appear,_   
_Cause it feels like grace every time you're near, yeah,_   
_Don't leave, until the sun comes back around._

**_Chiyoh POV_ **

A few days later, as Hannibal demanded, Chiyoh is navigating the boat off the coast of Virginia. It feels incredibly risky and foolish to her, and yet Hannibal is not to be dissuaded. And she’s sure as fuck she’s not going to let him go alone, as is his constant counterargument. So she continues to maneuver the boat northward. 

As she sails, her worries about the risk they are taking resurface, specifically about their boat. The day she stole this boat, she figured it wouldn’t matter since they would be long gone ever before it got reported missing. However now that they are back in US waters, she worries the boat is like a target on their backs, because surely the owners have probably reported it missing by now. In her mind it’s only a matter of time before they are caught. She only breached her concerns with Hannibal once after their initial discussion and his reaction was so vehement she hasn’t dared try again since. 

Over the past few days they have poured over maps, coming up with a plan - which as she understands it, is for them to dock and for her to make the journey to Will’s home in Wolf Trap Virginia to collect him. _Easier said than done_ , she thinks. If she thought she was worried about the boat, she is even more worried at the idea of leaving Hannibal alone in said boat. Hannibal is going to be like a sitting duck when she leaves - he's still injured, after all. And even though he is moving around more easily day by day, he certainly couldn’t outrun the police, nor sail the boat (even if he knew how). 

When they are finally docked in a remote harbor of a rural town off the coast under the cover of night, she asks Hannibal one last time, “Are you sure?”

The look he gives her tells her his answer before he says the word, “Yes.”

Nervous but unsurprised, she nods as she shoulders her bag and slips out into the darkness. She makes her way to the closest main road and hikes about a mile until she encounters a 24-hour Walmart. After a quick assessment of the area she decides it’s as good a place as any to steal a car. There were many cars parked at the marina but she didn't want to risk drawing any attention there. 

It doesn’t take her long until she finds a good candidate away from the security cameras. Checking that no one is around, she pulls out her tools and gets to work. She starts by removing the front license plate from a nearby car and tucks it into her bag. She then breaks into her chosen car, hot-wires it without difficulty, and drives down the street, pleased with her progress so far. 

Once she’s a safe distance away she pulls over and gets the other car’s license plate out of her bag. She makes quick work of peeling off the registration stickers from the car and putting them on the other license plate. Once complete, she replaces the plate and tosses the other one in the trunk.

Thankful to have that part done, she then gets back into the car and disables the GPS. Once the indicator light on it goes out, she finally takes a breath, feeling a little calmer. It’s not a perfect solution but it gives her a modicum of security as she makes her way to the interstate and begins the four hour drive to Wolf Trap. In a stroke of luck the car she chose has nearly a full tank of gas so she thankfully only has to stop for gas once. She intentionally chooses the most remote low tech gas station she can find. The last thing she needs is the car being caught on security camera. 

At the three hour mark Chiyoh is achy and tired from sitting so long and again cursing Will Graham for choosing to live in such a remote location. _Doesn’t the I in FBI stand for intelligence?_ she thinks angrily. She honestly doesn’t know how Will got hired because what intelligent person would choose to live so far away from their job? He must spend all his time driving! _Idiot_. But then again, she supposes he doesn’t seem the type to have many friends so she speculates maybe that’s why. Either way it’s just another aspect of Will Graham that is irritating her without him even being present! She can’t help but think that her life was so much better before Will Graham came into it.

An hour before dawn she arrives in Wolf Trap Virginia and parks the car about a half mile from Will’s house as a precaution. If anyone was looking for Hannibal she is sure they would be staking out Will’s house. The media may say Hannibal is believed to be dead, but she’s not taking any chances. She gets out her gun and slowly makes her way towards the house. Immediately she sees no lights are on but that’s hardly a surprise, almost no one is awake at this hour. She checks the perimeter and is surprised to discover that there is no vehicle anywhere. _Hm that’s odd._

As inconspicuous as she can, she tries to look through the windows, however she quickly realizes it’s too dark to see much of anything. Changing gears, she makes her way back to the door and quietly picks the lock, silently creeping inside once it releases. As she steps in she is immediately struck by how eerily quiet it is. Hannibal had warned her that Will has many dogs, and yet she hears no sign of life - no barking, no patter of feet. 

She quietly searches the house, going from room to room, and finds no sign of Will either. He must not be home. She rolls her eyes, again irritated at Will Graham. Why is he always so troublesome? She could almost believe he was cursed. Not wanting the trip to be a total bust, she searches the house for any clues to his whereabouts and soon realizes there really isn’t much to search. 

In fact, the more she looks she realizes the house barely looks inhabited at all. There’s no dishes in the sink nor the dishwasher. The refrigerator is empty except for a lone beer bottle and a jar of pickles. And the trash can only contains an empty whiskey bottle. For fucks sake, she can’t even find a bed! Does Will still even live here? 

That thought has her stepping back outside and trying to locate his mailbox. She succeeds in finding it on the porch and finds it bursting to the brim with mail. She chooses an envelope at random with her gloved hand and sees it is, in fact, addressed to Will Graham. Although the sheer quantity of it makes her wonder if maybe Will is out of town?

Forced to end her search for the former profiler empty handed, she locks the door, slamming it a little harder than is truly necessary, and begins the long drive back to Hannibal, hoping he’s still safely where she left him. 

*

**_Hannibal POV_ **

As soon as Chiyoh leaves, Hannibal’s mind is spinning and his heart is doing somersaults in anticipation. If all goes to plan Will will be here soon! It makes him all the more ansty because unfortunately all he can do is wait. Ever since he woke up he feels like his whole life has been put on pause, as if he hasn’t truly been alive, just in a state of purgatory. And now the end is finally in sight. Or rather the beginning. Once Will is here they can begin their new life together.

He tries to pass the time by reading the books Chiyoh brought him from her brief shore excursion. Apparently the internet cafe she went to had a used book section. However after a few minutes he quickly discovers he can’t focus, everything reminds him of Will. Gregor Samsa’s irreversible and socially exiling metamorphosis? Not that unlike Will’s becoming and embracing his true nature, seeing beauty in murder where others only see horror. He drops _The Metamorphosis_ on the ground and picks up another book but it’s even worse. _Really Chiyoh? The Iliad?_ He doesn’t even bother opening it, already knowing the story of Achilles and Patroclus by heart and how it intimately parallels his and Will’s relationship. 

Giving up on fiction as a lost cause, he decides to look for something non-fiction. He rummages through the bag and the only non-fiction book he finds is Steven Hawking’s _A Brief History of Time_. He gets about two pages in before his mind has strayed to Will again, recalling their teacups and time discussion, as well as the cutting pain that accompanied their last discussion on that topic before he was incarcerated. Out of desperation he tries skimming through the only magazine in the bag, _National Geographic_ , but a few pages in he throws it to the floor in frustration. _Really? A special on mongooses!?!_ It’s like the universe is working against him. 

Deciding he needs something else to do with his nervous energy, he gets out a notebook and a (regrettably #2) pencil and sketches what’s in his mind’s eye, what’s been on his mind non-stop from sunrise to sunset - Will. The familiar motions moderately calm him as he brings to life his memory of the last time he saw Will - fully transformed and covered in blood. It is the most perfect image of him and he can’t stop thinking about it. He knows the only cure is to see the man himself again.

Hours later, when the sun has changed places in the sky, he hears soft footsteps entering the boat. Instantly he sits up straight, his heart racing in his chest. This is it. This is when his life starts again, no when their life starts again, together. However as the steps get closer he realizes he distinctly hears only _one_ set of footsteps and feels worry set low in his gut. Automatically he looks around for anything he can use as a weapon, but his search comes to a halt when he recognizes Chiyoh’s scent in the air. And _only_ her scent. Instantly his mind is swirling. _Where is Will? Why isn’t he with her?_

When Chiyoh comes into view her expression is first one of relief, but Hannibal feels no corresponding relief at seeing her. 

“What happened? Where is Will?” he asks urgently.

Chiyoh fills him in and with every word out of her mouth Hannibal is getting more and more concerned. _Where is Will? Did he move? If so why is he still getting mail there? And where are his dogs? Will would never leave his dogs._ Icy dread takes up residence in his gut as he considers the unthinkable - what if Will went back to Molly? He wouldn’t…would he? The thought makes Hannibal nauseous that Will might have moved on. No, not even moved on but regressed. For how could the man Hannibal stood with on that cliff ever go back to living such a dull and mundane life? He is shaken out of his disturbing thoughts by Chiyoh saying,

“Hannibal, we can’t stay here long, it’s not safe. What do you want to do?”

Hannibal knows she’s right, they are exposed here. He tries to focus, corralling his emotions as best he can to be able to think clearly. He has to think like Will - do what Will used to do, getting into another’s mind. In this case he needs to get into Will’s mind.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and thinks. If he were Will, where would he go? The thought of Molly’s (thankfully) doesn’t feel right at all. Hannibal feels the truth of it, Will is a changed man. He himself is too. They changed each other. So if not there, where else would he go? The answer comes to Hannibal in a flash and his eyes open with the epiphany wondering, _No, it can’t be that simple can it? But it's where he would go if the situation were reversed...the last place they were together.  
_

“Maryland,” Hannibal says. 

“Maryland?” Chiyoh parrots. 

“Yes, as close to my property there as you can.”

“Hannibal, no we can’t! It’s too risky!”

  
“We wouldn’t have to do any of this if you had saved him!” Hannibal roars, briefly losing his temper. He shudders, taking a breath, trying to rein in his emotions. He’s not used to being so out of control and it’s unsettling to him. He feels vulnerable, like a wounded animal lashing out in desperation. He supposes the analogy is not far off the mark, he is wounded. And desperate. 

Chiyoh’s gaze falls to the floor, whether in fear or regret Hannibal is not sure. He feels overwhelmed with emotion right now, so much so that he doesn’t know how to act. Is this how Will feels with his excessive empathy? 

He knows he should be thankful that Chiyoh saved him. Should be thankful for her loyalty and all she has done for him. But it hurts so much, the loss of control over what his life has become. If he can even call it a life. And it all stems from her well-meaning but atrocious decision on that changed everything just over a week ago. Hannibal is surprised at the thought, wondering, _has it only been a matter of days? It feels like an eternity ago, like another lifetime._ He supposes in some ways it was.

After a moment she looks back at him saying, “Hannibal I-” but Hannibal cuts her off. 

“No, there’s no need for us to rehash this again.”

Chiyoh nods in understanding and silently walks away. They’ve had this argument and there’s no point in having it again. Words can’t undo what has been done. Not long after she departs the cabin, Hannibal sees through the window in the pale moonlight that the boat is moving out to sea. Instantly he feels marginally better to be doing something other than waiting. Although in reality for the next ten hours he is doing exactly that - waiting. In fact ever since he’s woken he has felt like he’s waiting. Waiting to not feel lost. Waiting to find his touchstone, his true north, his other half. And he won’t stop until he finds him. 

Soon enough though the distinct cliffs from that fated day start to come into view, just barely visible in the early morning light. Hannibal knows it’s a long shot - that even if Will has come here, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he will be here right at this very moment, but he hopes. He hopes with all of his heart. 

And a small part of Hannibal - the part of him that tried to think like Will, to get into his mind - knows that this is where Will will come eventually, even if he is not here now. In the past he always had difficulty predicting Will. Even with all his knowledge and intrusion he could never _entirely_ predict him. He could feed the caterpillar, he could whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatched undeniably followed its own nature. And in an unexpected turn of events, it is now Hannibal that wants to follow. He would follow Will anywhere, to the ends of the earth if he has to. 

When the familiar bluffs are in sight, despite Chiyoh repeatedly telling him not to, Hannibal climbs the small flight of stairs up onto the main deck, slowly and carefully due to his healing wound. When Chiyoh sees him she narrows her eyes at him a moment before turning back to the helm. He smiles to himself, hoping this is a precedent of Chiyoh’s outlook. He knows she doesn’t agree with coming back, but so far she is still doing it at his behest, despite the potential consequences. Just like now, she wants Hannibal to stay in bed, but she can’t force him to, so rather than fighting with him she allows him to handle the consequences. 

Hannibal then grabs the binoculars from where Chiyoh has hung them and makes his way over to the side of the boat, leaning against the railing. The cold wet morning air whips his hair against his face, which only seems to get worse the closer they get to the cliffs. However the cold barely registers since he feels like he’s been in a perpetual state of cold ever since he woke up. His last memory was holding Will’s body tightly to his own, and he suspects he won’t feel warm again until he can do that once more. Until that happens, Hannibal suspects he will be forced to endure more days and nights void of warmth in his heart. 

As he lifts the binoculars to scan the coast, he tries to keep his expectations low, to keep hope at bay; and yet despite his efforts, his heart hammers against his ribs in anticipation. The feeling is so intense that he is forced to close his eyes for a moment; the hope for Will to appear before him is so strong it physically hurts. He simultaneously wants to know if Will is here, and yet is also afraid to find out if he isn’t. It’s an incredibly frustrating paradox.

Hannibal takes a deep breath and once again tries to corral his emotions. He rallies his courage as he brings the binoculars to his face, opens his eyes, and scans the beach at the base of the cliffs. The day is just breaking as the sun comes back around the horizon once more. A lot of places remain hidden in shadow, slowly becoming visible as the world is gradually bathed in light by the rising sun. Hannibal shivers as the wind picks up and almost hopes Will is somewhere else, somewhere warmer. About fifteen long minutes pass of him looking and looking and finding nothing but beach and sand and rock. 

However, right before he is about to give up, Hannibal’s heart stops when he sees the unmistakable shape of a man sitting on the sand, near a cluster of rocks likely shielding him from the wind. 

“Stop! Stop the boat Chiyoh!” Hannibal calls out to her frantically, desperate not to lose sight of this man until he’s sure it’s not Will. But his traitorous mind gives him unsolicited hope, asking himself - _who else could it be?_

Chiyoh looks surprised but after a glance at him to confirm she heard right she hops into action, lowering the sail until they are just floating on the water. Now that the boat isn’t moving quite as much Hannibal looks again. The boat has drifted a little closer to shore, and between the closer distance and the increasing light from the sunrise he gasps realizing _it is Will!_

He can’t help but call out his name softly to himself, “Will!” His voice breaks a little as he feels grace and peace at finally being near enough to lay eyes on him. _Don’t leave,_ Hannibal thinks, unable to take his eyes off of him as the reality of what he is seeing sets in. 

However, the more he looks, Hannibal’s euphoria morphs into concern as he realizes Will looks strikingly different - this isn’t the man he remembers from the bluff. This man looks broken, lost, and defeated. Why would his Will look like that? That is the Will of the past. His Will has become more, embraced who he is, fearlessly looked him in the eye as he tipped them towards their fate. 

And then it hits him like a ton of bricks. How did he not realize it sooner? _Idiot Hannibal!_ If the world thinks he is dead, Will must think he’s dead too! And what does he do? Apparently just waste away, waiting for the sea to claim him, right at the site where they were last together. 

It's a darkly beautiful concept but also tragically sad, and Hannibal doesn’t like it one bit. Right now he wants nothing more than to put his arms around Will, to hold him tightly against his body just as he did a matter of days ago. It feels wrong not to be able to console him and yet he is too far to do anything other than look at the downturned head of the man who has become everything to him.

At that moment Chiyoh appears at his side and he reluctantly hands the binoculars to her, pointing the way. He sees the moment she finds him, sees her eyes widen before she looks at him in surprise. Hannibal already knew she didn’t expect to find him here. Knows she doesn’t understand. She can’t understand.

Chiyoh hands the binoculars back to Hannibal and he uses them to find the despondent silhouette of the man once more. Seeing Will’s body language so hopeless propels him into action, a plan forming in his mind. He decides to give Chiyoh an opportunity to redeem herself. He turns back to her and asks, 

“Can I trust you to bring him here?”

Chiyoh’s eyes widen and she hesitates a moment before she responds, “Are you sure Hannibal? This could be a trap.”

Hannibal is not surprised, he expected such a response. At least it’s not a _no._

“If you won't do it I will,” he calmly replies, and he instantly knows by the look on her face that she won’t let him do it. It’s not surprising. After all she barely wants him walking up stairs let alone traipsing on the beaches of a country where he would surely be on the FBI’s most wanted list were he not presumed dead. And it’s not just any beach, but the very site where he was last seen alive. And maybe most importantly of all, he would be going to the man who, in her mind, tried to kill him. No, it is not surprising at all that she wouldn’t approve of him going.

“No…no. I can't let you…I’ll go,” and then after looking at the shore and looking back she adds, “And yes, you can trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- FYI I tried my best with the literature part - I'm sure there are better options but that was all I could come up with. 🤷🏻  
>  \- And I know I got kinda silly with the mongoose part but I couldn't help it. 😂 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you so much to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! I really appreciate it! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/190655099634/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1224900627672649729?s=20)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allllllmost there...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time. 
> 
> Btw I’m having so much fun making the edits for the moodboards. I cracked myself up a bit on the one with Will holding a knife to her throat. She looks so bored like eh whatever 😂🤣.

**_Chiyoh POV_ **

When Hannibal asked if she can be trusted to bring Will to the boat, Chiyoh is not surprised...but she is a little insulted. For how is this any different than her being sent to collect him from his home in Virginia? However she supposes it’s Hannibal’s way of verbally confirming that she won’t harm the pest of a man. And the more she thinks about it, she can’t really blame him. Even though Hannibal may not know how close she was to ending Will’s life that night, he’s always had a sixth sense about things and she wouldn’t be surprised if the notion has crossed his mind.

In any case, she knows she is being given a chance to redeem herself in his eyes. But despite Hannibal’s assurances, she still doesn’t trust Will Graham. Although as she looks at the man on the beach, she does admit that he barely resembles the selfish, devious Will Graham she remembers. To be honest he doesn’t look like much of a threat at all, but despite appearances she’s not planning to let her guard down. Looks can be deceiving, and Will Graham excels at manipulation. 

The whole setup could easily be a trap set by the FBI - it reeks of heavy-handed strategy. After all, what better place for a trap than at the very site Hannibal went missing? And they have the perfect bait - Will fucking Graham. She still doesn’t understand the draw Hannibal has to him, and she supposes she might never understand it. But she loves Hannibal like family and above all wants him safe and happy, in that order. Because of that she feels it’s her duty to warn him it could be a trap. And when she does, she is unsurprised when he dismisses the notion entirely. In a twisted way she is thankful she is the one going to get Will, just in case it really is a trap, she’ll be ready.

Not long after their discussion, she fetches the nautical map book so that they can locate a place to dock the boat. She suggests they take it down to the cabin where it’s less windy but surprisingly Hannibal insists they stay on deck - and it doesn’t take her long to figure out why. After a few minutes it’s apparent that Hannibal’s eyes are constantly drawn back to Will like a magnet. It’s odd to see him so distracted, since the Hannibal she has known has always been so focused. _Just more proof how this leach of a man has bewitched Hannibal,_ she thinks sadly. 

They discover that there is a promising looking marina about a mile and half down the beach. There’s also a closer one in the opposite direction but it’s the same one Chiyoh stole the boat from so they opt for the further one. She sets a course and watches curiously as Hannibal slowly makes his way back over to the railing with the binoculars, watching as Will gets smaller and smaller in the distance until he is no longer visible. After that Hannibal seems to get restless - his eyes darting around, drumming his fingers, and pacing as fast as his injury will allow. It makes her nervous by proxy, not used to seeing him anxious like this - he's usually so calm in in control. After a few minutes pass like this she shoos him down below deck - after all he can’t be visible when she docks the boat anyway. 

Not long after the marina becomes visible around the bend, and she sees a few boats are already making their way out to sea. She supposes it makes sense, early morning is a busy time for fishermen. As she gets closer she also sees that the marina itself is bustling with people. _Great,_ she thinks sarcastically. Wanting to spend the least time possible here, she makes quick work of guiding the boat in an empty dock. 

Before departing, she briefly dips below deck to inform Hannibal of the situation. Knowing Hannibal is still in no condition to fight or flee, she leaves her large gun with him, and then begins the long walk down the beach. Once she is out of sight of the marina, she picks up a fallen palm frond and drags it behind her to mask her tracks. Just in case it is a trap, she doesn’t want anything that will lead back to Hannibal. 

It’s quite a ways down the coast so she ends up having a lot of time to think. In any other circumstance she could describe the walk as peaceful and beautiful, seeing the myriad of vibrant sherbet colors, both in the sky and reflected in the ocean, as the sun rises on the horizon. However her mind is too preoccupied to be able to properly appreciate the natural beauty. With each step she tries to envision and prepare for every eventuality she may encounter. And with how unpredictable Will Graham can be, there are _a lot_ of eventualities to consider. 

One thing she’s fairly certain of is that she suspects Will won’t be friendly to her - after all, the last time they interacted (while he was conscious), she pushed him off a train. The memory of his shocked expression as he fell brings a smile to her face. Serves him right. She really was trying to help him at that time, trying to show him there was another way. But of course like the troublesome man he is, he couldn’t see it - so she was forced to alter her approach. 

After about half an hour of walking the sun is higher in the sky yet the ocean wind remains chilly and wet, but _finally_ the familiar cliffs come into view, signalling she must be close. As she approaches the area she drops the palm frond and focuses on being as quiet as possible, moving stealthily, a skill she excels at. She strains her ears to listen but the sound of wind combined with the surf hitting the sand and rocks drowns out everything else - if there even is anything else to hear. 

Soon enough the distinctive rocks she saw from the boat come into view, and yet there is no sign of Will. _For fucks sake, the man can’t make anything easy can he?_ she thinks, already annoyed. Despite the exasperation, she keeps her guard up and looks around suspiciously. Not seeing any sign of life, she gets closer, hoping to see some tracks - maybe she can follow the irritating man?

When she is right upon the spot she saw him earlier she looks down at the sand but sees no clear direction or pattern. _Fuck, why is nothing concerning Will Graham ever easy?_ Reflexively she turns around, trying to decide what to do next when all of a sudden she is grabbed hard from behind. Her first instinct is to fight back but she instantly freezes when she feels a cold, sharp pressure at her neck.

It only takes her a moment to realize there is a knife pressed tightly to her throat - so tight that it has already broken her skin, if the warm trickle she feels is anything to go by. She wants to turn her head to get a look at her assailant but doesn’t dare. However if she’s honest with herself she doesn’t need to - there really is only one person this can be. After all, if this were a trap from the FBI there would be guns and snipers, not one unstable man with a knife. 

_Well, at least she found Will Graham,_ she thinks wryly. However she is truly at a loss as to how he was able to sneak up on her. She likes to think of her senses as being unparalleled, with Hannibal being the one exception to that - he’s the only person who has ever been able to sneak up on her. Until now, that is.

“What are you doing here Chiyoh? Hmm?” Will says roughly, tightening his grip on her. Immediately she feels stinging and another trickle of blood down her neck. “Did you come here to kill me?” he asks harshly, his mouth so close to her ear she can feel his warm breath.

Doing her best to stay calm, she takes a breath, not wanting to rile Will up more. It’s how she would handle a wild animal - and Will might as well be a wild animal. She senses an unstable desperation about him - like he has nothing to lose, no fear. It makes him unpredictable and even more dangerous than he usually is. The feeling makes her skin crawl, but she rallies her resolve, saying evenly, “No, I came to collect you.” 

The pressure on her throat lessens marginally as Will says, “Collect?” Despite the word only having two syllables, his voice travels up several octaves as he says it, sounding some combination of confused and disbelieving. 

“Hannibal asked me to. He’s on a boat about a mile and a half down the beach,” she says calmly. 

Instantly the grip on her relaxes, with both Will’s arms and the knife at her throat falling away. She grasps the opportunity, freeing herself and then turns to face the man who was so threatening just a moment ago, yet now looks...well pathetic.

Her first impression now that she can get a good look at him is that it looks like all the fight has drained out of him. Instinctively her eyes follow the knife that was just at her throat, and she is subsequently surprised to see it fall to the sand, apparently forgotten as Will’s knees buckle and he all but collapses in on himself. His arms hug his elbows and his face is downturned, hidden from view as he kneels on the beach, the picture of defeat. Despite his withdrawn posture she notices his shoulders are rising and falling rapidly - is he hyperventilating?

A moment later, she hears Will speak, voice barely loud enough to be heard above the surf and wind. “Hannibal is alive?” he asks, voice breaking on the last word - he sounds like a completely different person from the man who was threatening her not a minute ago. At the memory her hand instinctively finds her throat, stinging where she feels the sticky residual blood. _Fucking Will Graham._ Exasperated and getting a headache from the whiplash of his capricious nature, she decides she wants to speed this along. After all, the quicker they get out of here, the safer for Hannibal.

“Yes he is. He asks for you.”

At her words his eyes shoot up, innocently hopeful and wide before they harden, narrowing in suspicion as he asks, “Why didn’t he come himself?”

She sighs, irritation and anger coming back full force at this infuriating man who upended the fragile moorings her life was built upon, and more importantly the man who attempted to kill the last person she would claim familial ties to.

“I wouldn't let him, it’s too dangerous - _you_ are too dangerous! You're bad for him. If you really cared about him you would leave him alone. You’re like fire, you only know how to consume and destroy what’s in your path, and I don’t want you to destroy Hannibal any more than you already have! I told you before there means of influence other than violence, but violence is what you understand...and I see that hasn’t changed,” she says vehemently, surprised at her cathartic outburst. She shudders, hoping Will’s fickle emotions aren’t rubbing off on her.

As she speaks she sees Will’s eyes flit briefly to the knife in the sand but he makes no move to grab it, maybe out of defiance to her statement, she's not sure.

“I’m not going to leave him alone,” Will says, eyes hard and tone firm.

Chiyoh sighs again, she suspected as much. After all, reasoning with him never worked in the past, why would it work now?. Resigned, she says, “Alright, come on,” and starts walking back the way she came without a backwards glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- Sorry to leave you hanging, but if it’s any consolation, guess what happens in the next chapter… 😉 REUNION! 🥰  
>  \- It still blows my mind sherbet is spelled liket that - is it just me that grew up thinking it was spelled "sherbert" with an R? 🤷🏻 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Many thanks to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! Brings me so much joy ^_^ ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/190722475929/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1226253695018340352?s=20)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are reunited finally! 😁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow can you believe we're halfway done! 😆 I know I've been kind of slow walking the story but thanks for sticking with it! 💕

_It's safe to say I'm lost,_  
_Without you in my arms...,_  
_Until the sun comes back around._

_Take me down, take me down by the water, water,_  
_Pull me in until I see the light,_  
_Let me drown, let me drown, in you honey, honey,_  
_In your love I wanna be baptized._

_And the days and nights are cold,_  
_Without your body to hold..._  
_Cause it feels like grace every time you're near, yeah,_  
_Don't leave, until the sun comes back around._

  
  
**_Will POV_ **

Will instantly scrambles up, knife forgotten in the sand, and follows the mysterious woman down the beach. When he first saw her approaching around the natural curve of the beach, hugging the cliff to stay in the darkness, he thought he was hallucinating. He had wished to see a ghost from his past, but certainly not _her_ ghost. 

However he quickly became aware that she was in fact _not a ghost_ , because for as much time as he had spent in this spot, he knows the natural sounds here like his the back of his hand, and her quiet footsteps in the sand are not natural. _Fuck, Chiyoh’s really here! That’s a surprise. Why would she be here of all places?_ It can’t be a coincidence, it's got to be because of him...but why? 

Before he could give that question much thought, he had snuck behind a nearby rock and pulled out his pocket knife, glad he had kept with him. He’s honestly not sure why he has continued to keep it with him. It might be an old habit, but deep down he suspects a part of him is comforted by carrying something that could end his life, but he tries not to think about that too much. For the barest of moments he is reluctantly hopeful, since he automatically associates Chiyoh with Hannibal. In fact she’s the one person on the planet who might know more about Hannibal than he himself does. 

He’s glad that for once she doesn’t appear to be armed with her giant rifle. The lack of gun gives him another sliver of hope that maybe she’s here for a benevolent reason, but that hope dies the moment he remembers their last interaction. He had just kissed her, and she...Will shakes his head with regrettable ire at the memory. She had fucking pushed him off the back of a moving train! _What a bitch._

He remembers that even back then he couldn’t get a good read on the enigmatic woman - she’s even more inscrutable than Hannibal. And despite his gift, Will always found it hard to empathize with Chiyoh on the few occasions he tried. He recalls her being very closed and guarded, protective of her thoughts. In retrospect he supposes it makes sense with what little he knows about her - she’s like a guard dog, taking her duty to protect quite seriously. 

When she was standing in the spot he had been sitting in and turned away, he saw his opportunity and grabbed it - or rather grabbed _her_ , and more successfully than he anticipated. It felt good in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. The power that comes with holding someone’s life in your hands. However shortly after, the coppery smell of her blood mixing with the brisk ocean air reminded him too much of that day on the cliff with Hannibal, of their beautiful brutal pack hunting, and he was just barely able to hold it in how much the memory hurts. Rather than dwell on it instead he had focused on getting answers from this strange woman. 

The moment she said Hannibal’s name it was like an atomic bomb went off inside of him. Like time reversed, teacups shattering and reforming behind his eyelids, like down is up and _fuck is this really happening? Is it really possible Hannibal could be alive?!?_ The logical part of his mind reminded him not to get his hopes up, because if history has taught him anything it’s that she can’t be trusted, it’s very possible she could be lying. And he’s honestly not sure he could survive believing Hannibal is alive only to find out he’s not - it would be devastating. So to protect his last shred of sanity he refuses to let himself believe it until he sees him with his own eyes. 

As he follows her down the beach the sun creeps up over the horizon, coming back around as it paints the world around them in soft pinks, oranges, yellows, and purples. It would be beautiful if he wasn’t so wrapped up in all the emotions are churning in his gut, each one vying for dominance and none winning. The two main contenders are suspicion and hope. He’s rooting for suspicion, but his traitorous heart isn’t ready to give up on hope. And it all comes back to the question - why would Chiyoh lie about this? What does she have to gain? He supposes she could be leading him to his death, into a trap of some kind. But even if she is, is that really so bad? 

After about half an hour of walking, despite his best mental effort to prevent it, Will has determined that hope has definitely won out over suspicion. The thought of Hannibal being alive and that he might see him soon causes his stomach to feel like it's filled with butterflies. And not long after he can tell he has lost feeling in his fingers and toes. He knows that should concern him except how can it? He has no room to be concerned - 100% of his emotional capacity is spoken for. It’s like nothing else matters until he finds out if what she said is true. If it is…if it is…he lets out a breath. Fuck, he can’t even begin to process if it’s true. He can’t let himself believe it until he sees it. Because if it's not, he honestly doesn’t think he could take it. It would be too crushing. If that’s the case Chiyoh might as well have killed him. Or maybe it will be the push he needs to just walk into the frigid ocean water and not look back. She certainly didn’t look happy to see him which lends some credence to what she says being true, but still...

But he supposes what does he have to lose by following her? Nothing. He’s already lost everything. Shortly after being sent home from the hospital he gave his dogs away, surrendering to his compulsive need to be here - here where he last was with Hannibal. His dogs deserve better than an absentee owner, because to be honest he was absentee even when he was home. He felt like he wasn’t alive, like nothing mattered, as if the world had turned to black and white, all the color and meaning drained out of it. It was like he was permanently cold now that Hannibal was gone. But he had enough presence of mind to know he didn’t want his dogs to suffer along with him. 

As the docks come into view his heart starts to pound. Chiyoh stops in front of one where a sailboat is secured and he can’t help but think, _oh god there really is a boat. What if Chiyoh was telling the truth?!?_ All of a sudden his mouth is dry, there’s a ringing in his ears and he still can’t feel his fingers and toes and he wonders if he should be worried. But he doesn’t have enough mental capacity to linger on his own well-being, he’s too caught up with this glimmer of hope. Everything around him feels surreal, as if it’s happening in slow motion. He almost wonders if he’s going to faint - it’s reminiscent of his time with encephalitis where the world has a detached quality to it. Just as he takes a step towards the boat Chiyoh blocks his way, forcing him to stop and look at her.

“He’s inside,” she says. Her posture is defensive, on guard, and again Will is reminded of her and her sniper rifle, thankful for its absence, as he’s sure it would be pointed at him right now. He swallows and nods in reply, forcing himself to make eye contact despite how uncomfortable it feels. There’s only one person he wants to let into his mind right now and she is not on that exclusive list. Her gaze feels sharp and scrutinizing - he doesn’t like it so he looks past her, feeling a magnetic draw to the boat. He didn’t even realize he took another step until Chiyoh puts out her hand, holding him back. Her gloved hand grips his deconditioned shoulder too tight - it hurts but it’s only a dull awareness.

She squeezes until his gaze finds hers again. When their eyes meet she asks him in a gentler tone than he’s heard from her before, “You wont hurt him, will you?”

He forces himself to maintain eye contact with her, part of him wanting to rush past her but senses the futility, she could probably stop him. He knows he’s lost muscle and strength, and despite the fact that he restrained her earlier, since learning about Hannibal the excess of emotions floating around inside him has him feeling funny and uncoordinated, almost like he’s drunk. 

“No,” he answers honestly, trying to imbue his voice with the truth. Because it is the truth. Despite their extremely complex and volatile past, he doesn’t want to hurt Hannibal. In fact that is the last thing he wants. When he pushed them off the cliff he remembered thinking he was leaving it up to fate. If they died, they died together. And if they survived then they would live together, in every way - murder husbands and everything that entails. That’s what he wants. 

Chiyoh looks genuinely surprised by his answer, and when he tries to step out of her somewhat loosened grasp she holds on tighter. However when their eyes meet again she lets go and asks, sounding more honest than he has ever heard her, “Could I have ever understood you?”

Will wishes he could smile but he can’t muster up any more emotion than what is already coursing through him. He looks down a second, attempting to give it honest thought before looking back up at her. As he finally is released from her hold he simply says, “No.” And with that he walks past her onto the dock.

He half expected Chiyoh to follow him, but when he doesn’t hear her he glances back and sees her watching him from right where he left her, her face inscrutable. He’s not sure what to make of her staying where she’s at but he doesn’t worry much about it - anything is worth it for the chance to see Hannibal again. 

He climbs aboard the boat and looks around, quickly finding the entrance to the cabin below deck. For as jittery and overwhelmed as he felt before, all of a sudden he feels calm, able to focus. He’s not sure if it’s a survival mechanism, after all this could still be a trap, but either way he makes his way over, takes a breath, and descends the stairs. 

As he climbs down below deck the first thing that hits him is the smell. It’s a smell he thought he remembered, but smelling the real thing makes the memory look like a shadow. He would recognize it anywhere. He may not have Hannibal's nose but he would recognize the older man's scent anywhere. A thousand memories rush behind his eyelids, flashing in an instant - all their appointments together, car rides - both in his Bentley and the getaway car, the clothes that Hannibal provided for him at his safe house, their embrace on the edge of the cliff...all of the times he was able to smell it before.

Real hope spikes into him. His heart beats faster and time slows as he takes in every detail he can in the faint light. All the windows are covered and the lights are off so he can’t see much. The first thing he can make out is a small built-in bed that looks recently used but has no one in it. 

He barely has time to wonder if it’s a trap before strong arms encircle him from behind. All of a sudden he’s wrapped in that familiar scent and he honestly could care less if Hannibal is hugging him or killing him because _he’s alive! He’s really here!_

Will melts into the contact. His knees nearly give way as he whimpers and leans back, clutching onto Hannibal arms.

“Will.”

Will shivers, goosebumps erupting across his skin. It feels like an eternity since he last heard Hannibal’s voice. Hearing the older man speak his name is the last straw. He breaks down, turning in Hannibal's arms and burrowing into his chest, not unlike before they went over the cliff what feels like an eternity ago. His fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt nearly the same way they did that day, pulling himself into his space, seeking out the light that only shines in his heart when he’s with this man, the grace that only his presence provides.

As Hannibal's arms tighten around him Will feels tears flowing out of his eyes - tears of relief, of happiness. It’s like he’s drowning in love for this man - it’s all consuming and pulling him under, invading his body and he relents, welcoming it. He can tell in shock, overwhelmed, there is just too much feeling coursing through him. He clutches tighter to Hannibal, desperate to ground himself, thinking _don’t leave...don't leave me again._ And that is the last conscious thought he has before he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- YAY they are back together!! More coming soon! 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you to all who have read, commented, or kudos-ed! *blow kisses* ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
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	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their reunion continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Leap Day! Thanks for sticking with the fic!! More is on the way. 😉

_It's safe to say I'm lost,_  
_Without you in my arms,_  
_So I call your name and I pray you might,_  
_Come and watch over me like the pale moonlight,_  
_Until the sun comes back around..._

_Let me drown, let me drown, in you honey, honey,_  
_In your love I wanna be baptized._

**_Hannibal POV_ **

Hannibal can't believe it, Will is really here! In response to Chiyoh’s warning that Will might have set him up or planned to do him harm, he had hidden his body against the wall just past the entryway so he would see Will before Will would see him, but it was obviously unnecessary.

Shortly after hearing footsteps on the deck, for the first time since he woke up Hannibal breathes in Will’s unmistakable scent, and his response is visceral. He instantly feels better than he has since he woke up - the constant dull ache of his gunshot wound fades away into nothingness. It’s as if he was lost but now is found. And he no longer feels the phantom emptiness in his arms where Will should be. With every inhale it’s like he’s coming home, or rather like home coming to him, for wherever Will is is home. They belong together in this new life they have been given where all their walls are down, and where they are no longer hiding who they are from anyone. 

As soon as he comes into view, Hannibal can't stop his arms from reaching out and encircling the younger man, pulling his back to his chest, unwilling to let Will go even a step further past him - he's back in his orbit and Hannibal has no intention of letting him out. And immediately his perceptive mind observes just how much Will has changed since he last saw him, details he couldn’t see from the boat of how broken this man really is. 

The first thing Hannibal notices is that Will looks unkempt - his hair is long and scraggly (although Hannibal can attribute some of that to the ocean wind), and his facial hair is longer than he’s ever seen it, mostly covering the healing wound on his cheek, which almost makes the younger man look like a bum. But what concerns Hannibal the most is the gaunt haunted look Will has about him. It looks like he’s lost weight, and his eyes are sunken with dark circles under them. _Has Will not been eating or sleeping?_ The thought doesn’t sit well with him at all.

However, despite Will’s outward appearance, thankfully underneath Hannibal can still detect the magnificent beast he saw take down the Red Dragon, the man he loves with all his heart, whose darkness rivals his own. He’s still in there, that intangible essence of who Will really is - the same part Will unsuccessfully tried to hide all along but was ultimately unable to contain. After all, no one can deny themselves forever. 

The moment his arms make contact with the younger man, Hannibal feels Will tense defensively and he braces himself in response - he knows the hidden strength Will has. But somehow Will must recognize that it's him because a second later Will melts into him, all the tension bleeding out of his frame like water out of a burst balloon. It's the best feeling Hannibal has ever felt next to the events on the bluff, and it only spurs him to hold onto Will tighter, wanting to drown in the feeling, wanting his love to bleed into their contact.

“Will,” Hannibal calls out his name softly, and is somewhat surprised when said man gasps and turns around in embrace. Immediately Will’s fingers clutch the front of his shirt tightly as the younger man buries his face in his neck. It’s incredibly reminiscent of the last position they were in together and Hannibal smiles, feeling like time has finally started again. They are almost literally picking up where they left off. 

As Hannibal holds Will to him, he subsequently becomes aware of hot tears on his neck and feels his own eyes prickle in response. It seems to finally sink in that maybe things really can be okay now. Hope ignites in his heart at all the possibilities that lay before them, thinking now that they’re together he knows nothing can stop them. The world is their oyster.

In response to those thoughts Hannibal reflexively holds the younger man tighter against his body - and it's not a moment too soon because all of a sudden Will slumps against him as if his legs have given out. Hannibal holds him up as best he can but the motion pulls painfully on his still-healing stitches. He’s no stranger to pain though, especially when it comes to Will, and right now he would bear any pain in order to keep the younger man near him.

Doing his best to ignore the discomfort, Hannibal musters his strength and lifts Will into his arms, just as he did after Muskrat farm, although much less elegantly. Quickly and somewhat gracelessly, he maneuvers them the short distance to the boat’s built-in bed. As he bends to lower the younger man onto the bed, Hannibal holds in a groan - he can feel his stitched skin threatening to tear under the strain. 

His attempt to deposit Will on the bed is unsuccessful and he quickly realizes why - apparently even blacked out Will has retained his death grip on Hannibal’s shirt. Smiling at the unconscious display, Hannibal somewhat awkwardly shuffles with him onto the bed. It’s a tight fit and he ends up pulling Will halfway on top of him (on his non-wounded side) to fit, subsequently enclosing the younger man in his arms once more. 

Once they are situated he lays there catching his breath, alternately staring at the dark ceiling in surprise and at the curly mop of hair pressed to his cheek in awe. Once he recovers, he allows his eyes to rest, turning his face into Will’s hair, finding comfort at breathing in his scent, more concentrated here at the source. 

Even through the shroud of salty ocean musk, Will’s scent is tinged with a variety of emotions, the predominant one being _overwhelmed_. For a moment the scent reminds Hannibal of their early acquaintance, around the time when Will had asked ‘ _Did you just smell me?!?_ ’ Hannibal smiles at the memory, realizing it feels like it was a lifetime ago. In a way he supposes it was. 

As he thinks back, he realizes that he was in love with the younger man even then - because from no one else would he tolerate the rudeness Will regularly displayed. At the time he didn’t consciously understand it, all he knew was he felt drawn to the profiler. And despite all that they went through, and all that they put each other through (and all that they put through each other, _literally_ ), they seem to have defied all odds and come out the other side more or less unscathed. 

For an indeterminate amount of time they just lay there together in the dark, Will’s face pressed to his neck, his fingers gripping his shirt as Hannibal holds him, their bodies pressed together. With every minute shift Hannibal feels his own stubble catch in Will’s scruffy facial hair and thinks amusingly it’s almost as if every molecule of their beings are reaching out for one another, even as their bodies lie still. To his surprise, Hannibal feels a tear slip out at the overwhelming rightness of the feeling. He’s sure he's never felt more at peace than in this moment. 

Eventually Will’s breathing evens out and his body goes slack, a pleasant solid weight atop him, causing Hannibal to assume he’s asleep. Will’s tears seem to have stopped but Hannibal’s shoulder is damp - damp with what he hopes are tears of relief at their reunion - he knows that’s what caused his own. Hannibal stays awake awhile longer, enjoying the proximity to Will and the incredible feeling of peace it brings with it. His wound throbs occasionally but it’s easy enough to ignore in favor of the bliss in his heart. 

Despite his emotional and physical exhaustion, Hannibal’s mind wanders as he watches over Will as he sleeps. Without his conscious permission his imagination conjures images of watching Will sleep in the future. Maybe in a bed together in a Cuban villa, pale moonlight streaming in the window illuminating his skin where the sheet has fallen. He could watch until his skin would glow golden in the early morning light as the sun comes back around again, marking another day of their freedom. Hannibal sighs in contentment and hope - he never dared to allow himself to think such things before, but now it seems like it’s a very real possibility. Of course things may not turn out _exactly_ like that, he and Will have never had _that kind_ of relationship, but he has the most important ingredient for the metaphorical recipe of his future right here in his arms. 

Some time later he hears Chiyoh’s soft tread as she enters the cabin. When she makes her way over next to the bed he looks up at her, finding her clear gaze in the darkness. He nods once, communicating that everything is okay. Her expression remains neutral but she nods back and quietly exits, message apparently received. A few minutes later the familiar sounds of the ship being unmoored can be heard, and it is to those sounds, as well as Will’s slow even breaths next to him, that Hannibal finally joins Will in slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- Preview of next chapter: first kiss! >.<
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you to all who have read, commented or kudos! I really appreciate it! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/611329397836873728/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1233856578505203712?s=20)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their cuddly reunion continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I think this might be the quickest I've ever updated...2 days?

_Pull me in until I see the light,_  
_Let me drown, let me drown, in you honey, honey,_  
_In your love I wanna be baptized._

**_Will POV_ **

Will wakes to an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling. He feels warm and safe, with an overwhelming sense of _home_ , and for a moment he wonders if somehow he finally died - _maybe this is what death feels like?_ Although he can't imagine he would end up in heaven - even if he believed in it - but he can’t deny he feels free, free in a way he never has before.

His senses come back to him slowly, one by one, as he wakes by degrees. When he opens his eyes he sees nothing but blackness, but finds he doesn't feel alarmed at all - after all, the dark is only scary when you have something to fear. And he is not afraid, in fact he knows deep down that _he_ is the thing to be feared in the dark.

Smell and touch come back in conjunction and he immediately realizes he is laying on top of a warm body and recognizes a familiar scent he would know anywhere. _Hannibal_. All at once the memories come flooding back...Chiyoh...the boat...Hannibal…

Will raises his head and realizes his fingers are clenched in Hannibal's shirt, just as he remembers doing when they fell. Automatically he unclenches them, splaying his hand against the warm solid chest beneath. The steady thump of Hannibal’s heartbeat pounds under his palm and he automatically follows the sensation to its source. 

With his hand resting over Hannibal’s heart, Will’s worries of Hannibal being dead dissolve into nothingness as he feels this irrefutable proof that the older man is in fact alive. _This_ is how he envisioned waking up after the fall - _if_ they woke up at all, that is. He scoots his body down and replaces his hand with his cheek, listening to the steady beat - it calms him and he breathes out in relief, smiling to himself in the darkness. 

Hannibal shifts below him, his strong arms returning to encircle him in the new position. In response tears prickle in Will’s eyes, as he thinks how everything was so incredibly shitty before, but now...now it's perfect. 

“Will?”

Will shivers, hearing his name said in that voice that he never thought he'd hear again. Tears flow down his face and he's glad he's laying down because he would probably collapse again under the emotional weight of his reaction.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asks gently, as his hand lightly caresses his back.

Will huffs out a laugh, sniffling as he says, “Yes, yes I'm alright, god...you...you're alive…” The arms around him tighten briefly at his response.

“Yes I am,” Hannibal replies softly. As Hannibal speaks one of his large hands gently cradles his head, fingers threading through his curls. Will almost gets lost in the comfort of it all until he remembers his worry from before.

“I'm sorry...I...I...meant for us both to die...or both to live. When I woke up without you...I-” he isn’t sure how to explain it but Hannibal interjects before he can get any further.

“It’s okay Will...you have nothing to apologize for. You might recall I didn't fight it as you pulled us over the edge…” Hannibal says, nuzzling against his hair before he continues. “It really was beautiful Will, you were beautiful, _are_ beautiful…” Fingers continue to card through his hair tenderly and Will calms, realizing _of course_ Hannibal understood him, how could he have doubted that...but then why…?

“What happened? Where have you been?” Will finds he can't give voice to what he really wants to know - _why didn't you come for me?_ Hannibal presses his face closer and sighs, breath ruffling his hair. In the back of Will’s mind he wonders if he should be surprised at this newfound physical intimacy they seem to have slipped into, but it feels so easy and right that he can’t question it.

“I woke up three days ago on this boat off the coast of Florida. Chiyoh saved me.”

Will nods, unsurprised in retrospect the omnipresent woman was around. He absently wonders how she knew where they were and where she is now. In fact, for all he knows she could still be watching them at this very moment.

“Once I realized the situation I instantly had her set a course back here...against her judgement.”

Will smiles, his hurt assuaged by the fact that Hannibal immediately wanted to find him.

“I sent Chiyoh to your house but she told me you weren't there, that your dogs were gone and that the place barely looked lived in...she couldn't tell if you still lived there.”

Will sniffles, still processing everything as he replies, “Um yeah...I don't spend much time there these days. And I gave my dogs away.”

“I never thought I’d see the day, Will Graham without dogs,” Hannibal says softly.

“And I never thought I'd see the day where you were gone and I was still here,” Will says barely above a whisper. It's nearly too painful to say. It’s true there was a time in the remote past when he desired to survive Hannibal, but oh how things have changed. The unspoken words hang between them that maybe Will was considering ending his life. “It's not what I wanted. We were supposed to be together - die together, or survive together.”

“And survive together we did,” Hannibal says, squeezing him gently. “And thanks to your actions, the world believes me to be dead. I am free now thanks to you. I owe you my life Will.”

“And I don't want my life without you,” Will says, voice barely audible.

Hannibal's breath hitches and a moment later Will finds himself weightless, unsure which way is up in the darkness but uncaring as long as he feels Hannibal near him. As quick as it happens it’s over, and he’s laying on his back on the bed. Hannibal’s body is still pressed along his side and he can feel the older man reach across him.

A second later it’s evident Hannibal pulled the chain on the wall lamp because the boat cabin is suddenly bathed in a soft yellow light. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Will sees Hannibal’s face clearly before him. 

It’s a little different than he recalls - Hannibal looks slightly thinner and paler than when Will last saw him, but still undeniably himself. The older man’s dark blond hair is a bit longer than usual and it falls softly over his face, shielding his amber eyes from the light. And in contrast to nearly every other time Will has seen him, for once Hannibal is not cleanly shaven - he can see the stubble on his strong jaw that catches the light when he moves. However despite these minute differences, to Will Hannibal is just as painfully beautiful and perfect as he ever was.

From where he’s propped above him, Hannibal looks down at him fondly and brings his hand to Will’s face, cradling his cheek tenderly. Hannibal's strong yet delicate touch against his face is familiar, nearly identical to the moment before he gutted him all those years ago, yet Will finds he feels no fear now. The contact is undeniably imbued with reverence and love. Calloused fingers gentle their caress as they trail over the still-healing wound on his cheek from where the Red Dragon stabbed him. Hannibal touches him like he’s precious, and in response more tears escape from the corners of his eyes. 

After a moment Will reaches his own hand up to Hannibal’s face, mirroring the older man. To Will it feels like everything is happening in slow motion, almost as if time itself has stalled. Or maybe Hannibal was right all those years ago and time is reversing for them? Maybe this is their teacup finally gathering itself back together?

Will runs his fingers over Hannibal's scruffy face, feeling the tactile proof with his own hands that Hannibal is really here, that all of this is indeed real. Hannibal's gaze flits to his lips briefly before returning to his eyes which are brimming with more emotion than Will can ever recall seeing there before.

Will thinks he gets the message but he isn’t about to wait to find out - there's been too much time wasted already, too many opportunities almost lost for him to wait any longer. He doesn’t just want a taste, he wants to drown in the love he feels for this man so that neither of them ever experience any doubt ever again. So he lifts up off the bed as he pulls Hannibal’s face down towards his own and brings their mouths together in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- Preview of next chapter: umm...more kisses!!! 😁 (and more story 😉)  
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! *hugs* ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/611534877330898944/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1234678907405656064?s=20)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A course is set...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient! 💕 I know it was a long time in between updates 😅

_It's safe to say I'm lost,_  
_Without you in my arms..._  
  
_Come and watch over me like the pale moonlight,_  
_Until the sun comes back around..._  
  
_Pull me in until I see the light,_  
_Let me drown, let me drown, in you honey, honey,_  
_In your love I wanna be baptized._  
  
_And the days and nights are cold,_  
_Without your body to hold..._  
  
_Cause it feels like grace every time you're near, yeah,_  
_Don't leave, until the sun comes back around._

**_Hannibal POV_ ** ****

At first Hannibal is ecstatic when Will wakes up, and is moved beyond words when he remains close and lays his head over his heart. A small part of Hannibal wondered if Will would distance himself upon waking, returning them to their status quo. So the fact that the opposite has occurred has him on cloud nine.

However, after the initial questions are answered, the more they talk has Hannibal worried - it almost sounds like Will was preparing for the end...maybe even preparing to end his life. 

And then before the horrific implications of that can fully sink in, Will says he doesn't want life without him. The moment the words leave the younger man’s mouth Hannibal freezes at the raw emotion in his voice - at the clear vulnerability - realizing he needs to _see_ this beautiful man right now. He’s _never_ heard Will like this before and it both thrills him and scares him.

Hannibal holds onto Will and quickly rolls them over, letting go only briefly to turn on the light nearby, and what he sees takes his breath away. It's the first time he has seen Will clearly since the fall, and he doesn't even realize he's reached out to cradle the younger man's face until he feels the coarse hair of Will’s warm cheek against his palm.

As Hannibal stares at the man before him it's immediately evident that Will is much thinner and paler than he remembers him - almost a shell of the Will Graham he knew. However, as ocean blue eyes bore into his own, tears threatening to spill at the edges, he can see that the fierce Will Graham he knew is still somewhere in there.

A moment later Hannibal startles when he feels Will’s hand on his cheek, and in response he unconsciously licks his lips as he looks down at Will’s mouth. And before he fully understands what is happening, Hannibal finds himself being pulled downwards. He goes willingly and gasps in surprise, finally seeing the metaphorical light as a heartbeat later Will’s lips press softly against his own. 

The second their mouths meet fireworks go off behind Hannibal's eyelids. Only now can he admit to himself how long he wanted this, but never knew if it was even possible. His love for Will is well beyond purely physical love and he honestly would have been fully content to have Will in _any_ capacity - but now he feels like he can truly die a happy man. For what more could he want than this?

Instantly he returns the kiss, lips tingling pleasantly as he tenderly returns the pressure as his mouth glides against the younger man’s below him. Automatically Hannibal’s fingers slide into Will’s sea scented curls as his thumb lightly caresses his jaw just below his healing wound from the Red Dragon. The feeling of touching Will this way is like nothing he's ever felt before, almost as if he didn’t realize just how incomplete he really was until this moment. He feels an overwhelming relief that _finally_ they are together in every way, their uniquely shaped puzzle pieces now fitting in the right orientation. 

Eventually they pull back to breathe, foreheads resting together. When Hannibal opens his eyes he sees an errant tear has escaped Will’s eye and tracked down his cheek. He slides his thumb over it, wiping it away, and realizes with some measure of surprise that his own eyes feel moist too - he just has too much emotion to contain. When their gazes finally meet they stare for a moment before smiling and laughing breathily, breaking the tension. Upon seeing Will’s smile Hannibal feels an inner peace like he never has before, thinking maybe everything really can be alright now. 

Hannibal shifts so that they are laying side by side on the narrow bed and returns his hand to caress Will’s face, pleased when Will closes his eyes and leans into it - so trusting, his need etched clear on his face. More than anything Hannibal wants to erase the painful haunted look Will has about him. He waits patiently, not sure how long, for Will to open his eyes, and when he does he says solemnly, “I don't want life without you either Will.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth Hannibal is pleased to see Will’s beautiful smile light up his face once more, seeing the old Will Graham coming back slowly but surely in every crinkle of joy near his eye. In response Hannibal can’t help but kiss him again, satisfied when Will all but melts in his arms, clinging onto him, returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm. It’s as if they have both dived in head first, prepared to drown in their love for one another, in the sensation of being together rather than part for anything as trivial as a sustaining breath, refusing to come up for air until they are both irrevocably changed. He can feel the unspoken commitment between them that there is no going back from this. With every moment that passes the fear and uncertainty about their future fades into nothingness, leaving in its wake a feeling of wholeness and hope. 

Eventually they are forced to break for air once more, and in the quiet of their breathing the sound of Will’s stomach growling can be heard, causing them both to laugh lightly.

“How about something to eat, hm?” Hannibal asks, smiling as he caresses Will’s jaw with his thumb, in wonder at his compulsive need to keep touching the young man next to him. He supposes it makes sense, the comfort provided by the tactile proof that Will really is here.

“Even now you’re always playing host,” Will teases and Hannibal is happy to hear some of the sass back in his voice, becoming more like the man he remembers.

“Who says I'm playing? I’ve always loved taking care of you. Now come on, let's see what we've got, hm?” Hannibal says as he gingerly pushes himself up, mindful of his wound - it hurts and he suspects he may have torn a stitch when he lifted Will earlier, so he makes a mental note to have to look at it later tonight. Once standing, Hannibal holds out his hand and is pleased when Will automatically takes it, pushing himself up and following him into the main room of the ship.

As they walk the short distance Hannibal realizes he is hungry too, which he supposes does make sense - they slept for quite awhile. In fact when he passes a window he is surprised to see that it's dark outside now - they slept the whole day away! He flicks the lights on as he enters the space and a glance at the clock shows it’s a little after 10PM which explains why it's so dark. 

Once in the ship’s “kitchen” Hannibal heats up a can of stew and divides it into two bowls. It’s not up to his normal culinary standards but it doesn’t bother him, he’s had far worse in his life and with any luck this situation is temporary, just a transition between now and the rest of their lives. After Will offers his thanks they eat at the small table in companionable silence, bodies pressed together in unspoken mutual need to be close.

When they’re done, Hannibal takes their dishes and Will breaks the silence, asking, “Where is Chiyoh?”

At the question Hannibal pauses, realizing he completely forgot about her! “I don't know,” he admits, now wondering himself. Together they go up onto the deck, Hanibal wincing a little on the steps. Once topside, their bodies automatically gravitate towards one another in the cold night ocean air. However after a quick search of the deck Hannibal is shocked - not only is Chiyoh nowhere to be found, but they are no longer anchored near the cliffs! They are out at sea! The lights from the coast are barely visible on the horizon, and apart from those they are surrounded by nothing but moonlit ocean. 

A more thorough search of the pilot’s helm reveals a letter tied securely to the wheel. 

Regrettably Hannibal is forced to let go of Will’s hand to open it, but a moment later is pleased to feel the younger man lean his back against him as he turns away to look out at the ocean, giving him privacy to read it the letter. However once he sees it Hannibal realizes even if Will had been trying to read over his shoulder he would fail because it's written in Lithuanian! It reads (translated): 

_Hannibal,_

_You have found your nakama. I'm sorry I couldn't see it until now, and I’m sorry I didn't save him for you. I restocked the boat’s supplies before I left. Be happy, Hannibal. You know how to reach me._

_Chiyoh_

“What does it say?” Will asks, now looking at him curiously.

Hannibal folds up the letter, puts it in his pocket, and takes Will’s hand in his own again before saying slowly and deliberately, “Chiyoh has left me in your care...it’s the highest compliment she can give.” Here he pauses, choosing his words carefully as he continues, “Chiyoh was originally taking me to Cuba, so we have the means _right now_ to go there..but I would go anywhere with you Will. Where do you want to go?”

Will places his other hand over their combined hands as Hannibal waits, curious what the younger man will say - after all, he’s never been good at predicting Will, it’s part of what he loves about him. 

After a beat Will smiles softly, looks into his eyes and says, “As long as we’re together, I honestly don’t care where we go.”

Hannibal couldn’t stop the full smile that blooms on his face any more than he could stop the sun from coming back around and rising tomorrow morning - he feels _exactly_ the same way. “Well then, how about we set a course for Cuba for now?” he says, for lack of any better ideas at the moment. They can always adjust their course later if needed. 

A blush crawls up Hannibal’s cheeks as Will brings their joined hands to his lips, gently kissing his knuckles, before he lets go and makes his way over to the helm, easily taking control of the ship. And through it all Hannibal can do nothing but watch, impressed but unsurpised, as Will swiftly figures out the mechanics of the boat. 

Once the course is set, Will returns to his side and Hannibal is pleased when their arms automatically wrap around one another, as if they’ve had this type of relationship for years rather than hours, although he supposes in a way they have - the physical is just the final piece of the puzzle. 

Instinctively they both hold one another close, enjoying both the grace found in each other’s presence as well as the practical warmth the proximity provides - it’s getting colder by the moment and they really should get back below deck. However before they do Hannibal can’t help but ask, tone serious, “Are you sure you don’t need to go back and get anything?” He knows at one point in the past Will said he was willing to leave everything behind and run away with him, but that was then and this is now. And god knows things have changed since then so he doesn’t want to assume - he wants their new life together to start on the right foot. And he wants no reason for Will to leave his side once they start building their new life together. 

In response Will pulls back a little from their moonlit embrace, causing their gazes to meet once more. Will’s blue eyes appear black like the vast ocean around them, and Hannibal is reminded of their last moonlit embrace on the cliff top, his hand automatically gripping Will’s shirt just as it did then. 

After a moment Will smiles, a hint of color rising to his own cheeks as he says, “No I don’t, I'm sure...I’ve got everything I need right here,” and leans up to kiss him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- Preview of next chapter: fluffy intimacy >.<  
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Big hugs to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! Thank you so much! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/616969715983826944/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1256418207339929600?s=20)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get cleaned up. 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry no smut yet...but it's on the way I promise. 😉

_It's safe to say I'm lost,_  
_Without you in my arms..._  
  
_In your love I wanna be baptized...._  
  
_Cause it feels like grace every time you're near, yeah..._

**_Will POV_ **

Once the boat’s course is set and the chill from the whipping ocean wind starts to permeate their kiss, Hannibal takes Will’s hand and leads him back downstairs below deck. As they walk Will can’t help but reflect on just how much everything has changed within the past twenty four hours. In fact it really wasn’t until Hannibal asked him if he needed to go back for anything that it finally sank in that, for all intents and purposes, he is now on the run with Hannibal. They now have officially run away together like they talked about all those years ago, but with a few key differences - one important one being that he now has the courage to admit what he really wants rather than fear it. 

Back then Will told himself that his actions were all part of the game, bait to catch Hannibal, but deep down he was afraid to admit the truth, his dirty little secret - that this was _exactly_ where he wanted to be. The act he put on was too easy, and truthfully it was because it really wasn’t an act. Another arguably more important difference is that this time the world believes Hannibal is dead. Will absently wonders what Jack and Alana will think when they finally notice he is missing. How long will it take them to notice? And when they do, will they launch a full scale manhunt for him? Or just assume he finally gave in and took his own life?

Will is pulled out of his musings when he notices Hannibal wince with every step down the stairs, so when they get to the bottom he asks, “Are you okay?”

Hannibal stops and turns toward him, smiling as he says candidly, “Yes, but I think I might have torn a stitch.” It takes until they reach the cabin for Will to realize that Hannibal likely tore said stitch catching him when he passed out and he instantly feels bad. However what’s done is done, so he figures the least he can do is help Hannibal take care of it. 

When they arrive in the cabin and turn on the lights, Hannibal sits on the bed and Will immediately kneels on the floor in front of him, intention clear to inspect his wound. As Hannibal lifts up his shirt and gingerly removes the bandage, Will briefly flashes back to the moment Hannibal got shot. He regrets how he was still playing their game even up until that moment, pretending he wasn’t panicking inside at the sight of Hannibal bleeding out on the floor, pretending he didn’t want to go to him and hold him, pretending later he was remaining aloof to get an opportunity to attack the Red Dragon… but to be honest it was that moment that started scrambling both his mind and his heart. 

It was that _exact_ moment when Will realized that what he thought he wanted wasn’t at all what he wanted, and god it all went to hell in a handbasket after that. He was too afraid to have what he wanted, so he literally pushed them over the edge, and had felt so incredibly guilty for it until he found out that not only was Hannibal alive, but that he understood him the whole time! This whole thought process passes in the span of a few seconds but Will’s attention is brought back to the present when Hannibal’s wound is fully revealed, bathed in the soft yellow light of the wall lamp nearby.

Will gasps at the sight, seeing dried blood over discolored flesh, held together with stitches that are, in fact, torn in some places - and in others the skin is torn instead. He shudders in sympathy - it looks painful.

“Yes, some are torn,” Will affirms, automatically reaching to hold Hannibal’s shirt out of the way when he sees the older man leaning over trying to see and wincing in the process. “What can I do?” Will asks, wanting to do anything to help.

In response Hannibal smiles warmly at him again, and in that moment Will realizes that it really is as if all their walls are down. The honesty and vulnerability Hannibal is showing right now makes so many emotions run through him. In fact just being near Hannibal again without all their games and deceptions clouding their relationship feels like a breath of fresh air, like a new start for both of them. At the moment Will can’t put a word to the multitude of emotions he feels but he supposes the closest would be grace - in all senses of the word. Since being reunited with Hannibal, all at once he is simultaneously charmed, forgiven, blessed, and elevated beyond who he was. 

“In that drawer there is a medical kit,” Hannibal says after a moment, pointing to the small built in side table nearby. 

Will rises and retrieves it as requested but halts his motion to close the drawer when he sees his own likeness looking back at him. He pauses and picks up the paper, realizing it’s a drawing of him! But not the usual version of him he sees when he looks into a mirror. No this is him covered in blood, eyes bright and piercing. He looks animalistic, wild, and powerful. _Exactly_ how he felt right before they slayed the Red Dragon together. And yet he realizes he also looks...beautiful. There's really no other word for it. He's frozen as he stares at the striking image, realizing not only did Hannibal draw him, but that he can almost feel the reverence and love he put into it in every stroke of the pencil. Will can't help but wonder if this is this how Hannibal sees him... or just how looked that night? Was this the last clear look Hannibal got of him before they fell? He must be standing there too long because he hears, “Will?”

Will turns toward Hannibal, still holding the drawing, and eyes moist as he asks, “You drew me?”

In response Hannibal’s cheeks flush as he smiles, saying, “Yes...to be honest, since I woke up there hasn't been a moment you haven't been on my mind...it was... _frustrating_ not to be able to look for you myself...drawing helped.”

Touched beyond words, a tear escapes Will's eye. He discreetly wipes it away as he carefully sets the drawing down and returns to Hannibal’s side with the medical kit. Once again he kneels down in front of the older man, but at a loss for words he puts his hand on his thigh, trusting Hannibal will understand. A large warm hand lands atop his own and holds it for a moment as Will takes a moment to collect himself. With the simple gesture he feels seen, understood, and loved. It’s a powerful combination. But he knows right now there is still much to be done. Once he feels more grounded, Will starts to pull his hand away to open the medical kit but Hannibal halts his motion, saying, “This might be easier in the bathroom.”

Will nods and rises, helping Hannibal up, and then follows him to the small bathroom. Right away Will understands why it will be easier in here, despite the cramped space - the lighting is so much brighter than the cabin. Wincing, Hannibal lowers himself onto the closed lid of the toilet and lifts his shirt as Will sets the medical kit on the edge of the sink and kneels down on the floor. Instantly it’s evident that the wound is more irritated looking than Will realized, pink and inflamed around the edges. 

“Can you get the scissors and tweezers and pull out the torn ones?” Hannibal asks. Will nods in affirmation, meeting his gaze before opening the kit and getting the supplies. Immediately he starts to do the task as gently as possible, watching Hannibal’s face periodically to make sure he's not hurting him, but Hannibal just keeps looking down at him in awe and with unmistakable fondness.

Once done, Will asks, “Okay, now what?”

“The area needs to be cleaned before we restitch it, and I was thinking of having a shower anyway.”

Will moves back to give Hannibal room to stand. “Do you need help?” he asks, and immediately frowns at the mental image of Chiyoh helping Hannibal shower and tending to his wound, because surely she must have. Will knows he should be eternally grateful to Chiyoh for saving Hannibal in the first place, but right now he can’t shake the possessive feeling that he wants to be the one to do that for Hannibal, wants to replace her touch with his own.

“No,” Hannibal says, shaking him out of his reverie, and Will can’t help that his frown remains in disappointment, nodding as he turns to leave the bathroom. He can’t help feeling a little lost without the tactile proof of Hannibal in his arms, or at least within touching distance. However Will is stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder that grips tightly until he looks up, seeing Hannibal is smiling at him as he says with a wink, “...but I would appreciate your company.”

Instantly the disappointment leaves Will like a balloon cut loose from its string. He is incredibly happy that apparently he's not alone in his compulsive need not to leave Hannibal’s side longer than necessary. Will turns back around and nods, feeling surreal as Hannibal starts to unbutton his shirt. Realizing he doesn't want Hannibal to stretch his wound any more than necessary, Will then maneuvers past Hannibal to get the shower started. 

Once done, just as Will is about to question what he should be doing, he catches sight of himself in the small mirror and is appalled at how he looks. His hair is longer than he’s ever let it get and it's quite scraggly in places. Instantly he grabs the scissors from the medical kit and starts trimming his beard and mustache, being mindful of his cheek wound, and then progressing to his hair. After just a few minutes work he is satisfied, rubbing his hand over his jaw in assessment - it’s not perfect but he undeniably now looks more like himself and less like a hobo.

Once he’s thrown the hair away in the small wastebasket, Will can’t help that his eyes automatically travel to the older man in the shower. He intently watches Hannibal's toned but debilitated body under the spray, taking in the expanse of tan skin, the way his muscles flex as he moves, the droplets of water caught in his salt and pepper chest hair, and then lower down to his cock, which he _thinks_ looks slightly fuller than totally flaccid but he can't tell for sure. Will is mesmerized by the gorgeous sight, watching as Hannibal rinses the shampoo out of his hair under the spray, his face in complete relaxation. It’s beautiful. He's beautiful.

Will is sure he is staring longer than is polite, but when Hannibal's eyes meet his own he doesn’t look bothered at all. In fact the older man smiles warmly at him, wiping the water away from his eyes before extending his hand out in clear invitation to join him. Will slowly smiles back, barely believing this is actually happening, as he starts to unbutton his shirt. When he reaches the last button Will shrugs it off and glances back at Hannibal just to make sure he’s reading the situation right. Hannibal is still watching him and smiles, eyes briefly flitting down over his body, approval clear in his gaze.

In response warmth rises to Will's cheeks and he can’t help but bashfully avert his eyes and smile as he rushes to remove the rest of his clothes. Once nude he again feels surreal as he takes the two steps to the shower and gets inside. It quickly becomes evident that there really isn't enough room for two grown men in a boat shower, but neither man makes mention of it, for truthfully neither care.

Will watches intently as Hannibal rotates his body to let the shower spray over his wound, and with just a glance Will understands what needs to be done. He finds the soap and lathers some in his hands before turning Hannibal towards him and gently washing the wound. Will is sure the soap probably stings but it's what has to be done and he knows Hannibal knows it too. Touching Hannibal this way is novel, and yet it is also undeniably familiar, almost as if he’s touching his own body, and Will supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. After all they have always been identically different, two parts of the same whole. Will allows his fingertips to linger over his skin, for no reason other than it feels good to touch Hannibal intimately like this. 

Eventually Will reluctantly removes his hands so Hannibal can turn and rinse soap away. Already missing the contact between them, Will doesn't really think too much about it and follows what feels right by starting to wash Hannibal's back, pleased when the older man relaxes into his touch, staying in place to allow his hands to roam as they please. And roam they do, first gliding up and over his broad shoulders to the nape of his neck, and then further down over the strong muscles of his back. Will finds he is unable to resist throwing in a massage here and there, enjoying getting to know this remarkable man in this new way. What makes him tense, or relax, or squirm. He wants to know it all. But he knows he has a lifetime ahead of him to learn.

After a few minutes Will turns him and does the same to his front, bravely meeting Hannibal’s intense gaze on him. However he finds that there is a quiet reverence to the moment, that somehow they both know that together they are building the foundation of something new, something bigger than both of them individually. As the water cascades over their bodies in the small space Will can’t help but wonder if maybe it wasn’t their fall off the cliff into the ocean that was their baptism into their new life, but if instead it is this moment now. A conscious loving choice on both their parts, not borne out of his fear, but chosen with intent, a commitment to their new life together. It’s truly not the water, symbolic as it is, but their love for one another that is cleansing them of their old lives. It’s poetic in a way he suspects Hannibal would appreciate and he makes a mental note to tell him later, but for now he doesn’t want to break the magic of the moment with words. 

Will lathers more soap and slides his hands over the broad planes of Hannibal’s chest, enjoying the novel feeling of running his fingers through his wet chest hair, then down his sides, over his hips, and up his strong arms. _Arms that have killed people_ , Will’s mind reminds himself, but he's not bothered by it like he once was - he’s beyond feeling shame for how he honestly feels. He has fully accepted that he loves this man, darkness and all. _And besides_ , Will mentally counters, _his own arms have killed people too._

When Will is done with his tactile exploration, Hannibal turns to rinse and Will is about to start washing himself when the older man stills him. Wordlessly they swap places and Hannibal guides him to wet his hair and then gently massages some shampoo into his scalp. Instantly Will sighs in contentment, totally giving himself over to the moment, not thinking, just feeling. He can’t recall the last time he had such complete trust in someone, nor does he want to. It's just another fact of his relationship with Hannibal that is unique - Hannibal is the only person that he can fully be himself around, with nothing to hide or be ashamed of. Hannibal loves him for who he is, darkness and all.

Soon enough Hannibal guides him to rinse and then gives his upper body the same treatment, fingers gliding over his skin reverently. The way he caresses his body makes Will realize that maybe Hannibal is learning him too. The way Hannibal touches him makes him feel precious, sacred, and undoubtedly loved. This really is a mutual commitment they are making, Hannibal answering his own unspoken vow. At the touch Will feels a small spark of arousal, but they are so much more than that, and now that Will is confident they have all the time in the world, it’s easy to put the feeling aside it for the time being. For he is sure they will have time to explore all facets of their new relationship later. After what feels like a lifetime, time has finally restarted for him. He can envision his future - no - _their_ future, and looks forward to it more than he's ever looked forward to anything.

After they get out and dry off, both clad in generic pajamas Chiyoh procured, Hannibal lays down and instructs Will on how to fix his stitches. Will is a bit nervous, having little experience with such things, but he’s willing to do whatever it takes to help Hannibal heal, which apparently includes piercing his skin with a needle. He does his best, following Hannibal's instructions, honored that Hannibal is trusting him with this task. 

Once done and bandaged, Hannibal sits up and takes Will’s face in both of his warm hands. For a moment Will thinks Hannibal is going to kiss him but instead he turns his cheek towards the lamp, gently touching the healing stab wound on his cheek, now much more visible after his impromptu trim. Will allows the gentle prodding and is unsurprised when Hannibal tells him not much more can be done since the wound is already closed. 

Will nods and is expecting Hannibal to pull back, but instead he finds his face held in place and feels Hannibal’s rough cheek against his own and gentle lips pressing a kiss into his wound. Reflexively Will smiles at the sweet gesture, but then gasps in surprise and emotion as Hannibal tilts his head down and places a soft kiss against the scar on his forehead - the very scar Hannibal himself gave him back in Florence all those years ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, almost like it happened to someone else - but he supposes they both were different people then. The kiss feels like an apology and Will finds his eyes getting moist once more, but before he can say anything Hannibal has tilted his face up and caressed his cheek as he looks into his eyes and kisses him tenderly. 

Will exhales into the kiss, nearly overcome with both emotion and fatigue, but he grips Hannibal’s forearms as he returns the kiss, basking in the pure love he feels like a flower basks in the sun. Just as he is getting lost in the pleasant sensation of warm lips against his own, Hannibal pulls back and guides them both to lay down on the small bed. Despite sleeping all day, Will feels physically tired and emotionally drained. Hannibal settles in behind him, pulling the blanket over them both and it’s not long before the pair of them are fast asleep. And that night Will sleeps better than he can ever remember, not a nightmare to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- In trying to (loosely) keep with the lyrics of the song I looked up the definition of "grace" and was surprised at the variety of meanings! [ If you're curious.](https://www.thesaurus.com/browse/grace?s=t)  
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Thank you to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/618603645531979776/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1262953974732410882?s=20)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiyoh does one last favor for the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time...can you believe the next one is the last!
> 
> Warning: Just a reminder to check the tags in case you're sensitive to discussions of possible suicide (don't worry, everyone is okay).

**_Alana POV_ **

When a few days go by and Will doesn’t return her call, Alana starts to get worried. Or rather, gets _more_ worried than she usually is about Will. Ever since she met Will she supposes she has had some level of worry about him. In the beginning she just wanted everyone to leave him alone, and then when she got to know him better she had nearly fallen in love with him...but after that things got weird. 

Ever since their almost relationship she never truly felt like she understood him. His actions didn’t always make sense, and his motivations were _very_ questionable. In fact around that time she honestly started becoming more worried for others around Will than for Will’s well being. 

And then after their altercation with the Red Dragon and Hannibal’s death, all of a sudden it was like that potentially dangerous version of Will disappeared...in fact nearly all traces of any version of Will she knew disappeared. He was like an empty shell of a person. In fact every time she saw him he looked worse - weight loss, poor hygiene, slowly disconnecting from reality - he even gave away his dogs for god's sakes! 

That was a huge red flag for her, because those dogs were the closest thing Will allowed to a support system. As a psychiatrist she knows the signs of someone at risk for suicide, and Will is ticking nearly all the boxes. It’s why she does her best to check in with him periodically - not enough to be suffocating, but enough to hopefully show Will that there are people who still care about him and to remind him she is here if he needs to talk to someone... _and_ to ease her worry, proof that he’s alive. 

The second day after Will doesn’t return her call, she calls Jack just to see if he has heard from Will (he hasn’t). He tells her not to worry, that Will has been through an ordeal and he’ll come around when he’s ready. She wishes more than anything that she could believe it but her gut tells her something is wrong.

So after the third day of Will not returning her call (since he usually calls her back within the day) she goes over to his house. On the way she drives through a burger joint she knows Will has eaten at before, hoping it buys her some time to spend with him. 

After knocking and seeing no signs of life through the window, she lets herself in with the key she has from when Will was incarcerated and finds...nothing. No sign of Will anywhere, nor that he was recently here. There are no dishes in the sink nor trash in the trash can so she can't even estimate how long he’s been gone. In the bathroom his toothbrush is present but dry, but she concedes Will's hygiene hasn't been the greatest so that's not necessarily a good indicator of how long he’s been gone.

Worry increasing by the moment, she goes back outside and realizes Will’s Volvo is nowhere to be found. Upon that discovery she feels a sprig of hope that maybe Will is just out somewhere and she is overreacting. But his lack of response to her call still worries her so she gets in her car and calls Jimmy Price, suspecting out of all of her FBI contacts that he is the most likely to bend the rules for her. Her instinct proves correct as within a few minutes he has run Will’s plates and given her a radius and time frame his car was last seen. _Five days ago?!? Shit! That’s not a good sign._ She thanks Jimmy with a quick promise to update him with what she finds later. She then plugs in the coordinates and gasps when she sees where they are - because there's surely only one place Will would go within that radius. 

She turns on her car and speeds all the way to the Maryland coast. Once there it takes her a bit of scouring but finally after about an hour, burgers long forgotten on her passenger seat, she finds Will’s car parked along a remote stretch of road. She parks behind it and gets out, having to hold her hair back against the strong ocean wind. She briefly inspects his car but doesn’t see anything of note other than a layer of dust coating the outside. _About five days worth_ , she thinks anxiously. Having exhausted the immediate area, she explores further, walking down the short makeshift path to the rocky beach. Nearly the same rocky beach where Will was found. Likely close to where Hannibal died - as close as one can get without wading into the Atlantic ocean.

In a way she's not surprised that Will would come here, because many traumatized people return to the scene of their trauma trying to find closure. She searches the area, walking up and down the beach but finds nothing, no sign of Will. Much farther down the beach she sees a pier and marina, but it has ample parking so it wouldn’t make sense for Will to park where he did if he was going there. She’s about to give up when a glint of light catches her eye near the high tide line. As she approaches she looks down and sees shoe prints walking the exact same direction she is. They're faint since they’re in soft sand but they look like boot prints, and approximately Will’s size. 

Worry growing exponentially by the second, she carefully walks around the prints and makes her way to the shiny object. When she gets close enough to realize what it is she stops dead in her tracks, hand over her mouth as she refuses to believe what the evidence is telling her. That’s Will's hunting knife! She would know it anywhere - she’s seen it many times in his living room and remembers him saying he would rather carry it than a gun. And the footprints...they disappear into the waves lapping at the shore. No...no, it can’t be…Will wouldn’t do that...would he?

Tears start streaming down her cheeks and she falls to her knees in the sand, sobbing, holding the knife. Eventually she pulls herself together enough to walk back to her car, bright sun in stark contrast to her gloomy emotions Wiping the tears from her eyes, she drives an hour and a half to Jack's office and storms in, ignoring his confused secretary. After she has explained what she found, Jack sits back in his chair, hands steepled under his chin.

“And you're sure there is no other explanation? After all Will does have a history of piloting boats… _and_ not telling us about it,” Jack says, referring to Will’s impromptu solo voyage to Italy years ago.

“No...the closest pier was a mile away! And there were no tracks in that direction.” 

Jack doesn’t immediately respond so Alana sits down, dabbing her nose with a tissue and sniffling before she adds quietly, “I know Hannibal is dead...but I feel like this is his fault.” She really does. Not that Will is blameless by any means, but Hannibal obviously took advantage of his fragile mental state, made Will co-dependent on him in some ways, isolated him from everyone else. And now that Hannibal is gone...poor Will...no wonder he-

She’s brought out of her thoughts when Jack puts his hand over hers and pats it once. Once he has her attention, he says “Just be happy it's finally over Alana.”

Alana instantly snatches her hand back as if she’s been burned, appalled at Jack’s words. How can he say that?!? Their friend just died, for god’s sakes! How cold can Jack be?!? She always worried Jack only saw Will as a tool, a means to an end, and now this is the proof! Eyes wide in shock, she storms out, tears running down her face, leaving the knife on his desk. After all, she has a service to plan.

**_Chiyoh POV_ **

Chiyoh watches through binoculars from her lookout point up on the rocky cliffs as a woman parks behind Will’s car and inspects it. She’s been preparing for this moment for the last week. After she launched Hannibal and Will out to sea, she went back to collect the knife Will attacked her with. As she picked it up, intending to dispose of it, instead she got struck with inspiration, deciding to do one last thing for Will and Hannibal. 

Pocketing the knife, she walked back to the marina and _borrowed_ a car, driving to WolfTrap, Virginia. From there it was easy to procure a pair of Wills well worn boots from his closet. Once she returned to the marina, she walked back to the place she found Will, dragging a palm frond behind her to obscure both her and Will’s tracks. 

From there it was easy yet also uncomfortable to put his boots on and make tracks leading into the water. As she walks, she intentionally drops the knife near the edge of the high tide line so it won’t wash away, but could reasonably explain why there is no trace of blood on it. Soaked from the thighs down, she wades up the coast a bit before bagging the boots and making her way back to her lookout point, intending to burn the boots once they’re dry. As she sits in the sun to let her pants dry, she hopes it won’t take too long for law enforcement to find her little setup. 

Today marks a week she’s been waiting, and this woman is the first to come investigate. As she watches, Chyioh wonders is she a friend? An FBI agent? Her question is soon somewhat answered when the woman falls to her knees near the knife, sobbing - must be a friend. Although she looks far too put together to be close friends with Will...however if this experience has taught her anything it’s that there has _got_ to be more to Will Graham than what she sees.

She sticks around another few days for good measure, long enough to see Will’s car towed and a small vigil held by a group of less than ten people. That’s all the proof she needs that her task is complete so she packs up, leaving no trace. As she gathers her items, she pauses as she realizes she doesn’t know what she’s going to do now. For the first time in her life she has no responsibilities, the world really is her oyster. With a smile she thinks now that Hannibal has found his happiness, maybe it’s time she found hers too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes:**  
>  \- Preview of next chapter: Their happily ever after! 😊 Oh and smut. 😉  
>  \- I feel so bad for Alana in this chapter but it had to be done...now the boys won’t be bothered by anything like an FBI manhunt.  
>  \- And sorry if I made Jack kinda callous. I pictured him feeling a tad guilty himself and not being ready to process it so he was quick to focus on the relief of it being over.  
> 
> 
> ♥♥♥ Big hugs to all who have read, kudos-ed, or commented!! ♥♥♥ 
> 
> As always I'd love to hear your feedback in a comment below! or hmu [here](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr ^_^
> 
> If you like the story feel free to share it [here on tumblr](https://madsteacup.tumblr.com/post/618971783714963456/show-chapter-archive) or [here on twitter](https://twitter.com/madsteacup/status/1264426561668710400?s=20)


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